


Hunted By The Wolf

by Goldenpetal13



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Grief, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Magic, Modern Girl in Thedas, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV First Person, Shapeshifting, Thedas Levels of Magic Hatred, Thedas Levels of Racial Hatred, Time Travel, bad families, death of children
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 11:04:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 41
Words: 144,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15071852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldenpetal13/pseuds/Goldenpetal13
Summary: Waking up in the Dragon Age World should mean this is all just a dream.  Only there’s a voice in my head calling itself Love.  Things keep going off script.  And the one romantic choice I never pick, Solas, seems to know who I really am, and keeps calling me Vehnan.The line ‘In another world’ has always fascinated me.  What if Solas found out the woman he loves is from another world?  What if he found out she wasn’t really the elven woman he thought she was?  And what if he found this all out too late and still went ahead with his original plan?  What would he do when his plan ultimately failed?(The author fully admits, in her arrogant opinion that his plan is doomed to failure, as the elves have yet to learn from their mistakes, and would simply reenact them.)





	1. If I Could Turn Back Time

**Author's Note:**

> Current idea of updating would be Wednesday.
> 
> Constructive criticism is always welcome. I'm aware of my issues with grammar. I am attempting to work on it.

The wolf watches as the small hunched figure creeps into the cave.  Gaunt, thin, and with only one arm, she struggles with her self appointed task.  One wall of the cave is open to the sky, letting in enough light, for a stunningly beautiful rose bush to flourish, blooms dripping from its branches, thorns dagger length and sharp.

 

“Hey baby girl,” The woman croons seemingly to the bush.  “Mummy’s home, and she’s never going to leave you again.”  She falls to her knees, and with her right hand, winds a leather thong through the branches closest to her.  From the thong dangles part of a jaw bone.  The jaw bone of a wolf.

 

Bumping along on her belly, the woman slithers as far into the bush as she can.  Thorns and branches catch and tear at her, she seems oblivious to it all.  Finally she stops.  A vial of liquid appears in her hand.  Pulling the cork out with her teeth, she swallows the contents.

 

The poison is extremely potent.  Blood begins to gush from her ears, nose, mouth, and eyes.  Though it is hidden from sight, blood runs from every orifice she has.  The wolf watches as she dies a painfully bloody death.

 

He’s watched this memory more times than he has bothered to count.

 

Blinking awake, Pride stretches out his body, and sits up in the same grotto.  The rose bush has long since died, the centuries taking their toll on the living gravestone of his Heart and unborn daughter.  Instead a stone rose bush has replaced it, their three names carved into the base.

 

“My Lord,” A somewhat sardonic voice calls out to him.

 

He doesn’t bother to move, “Yes Sorrow?”  This is the last time he’ll get to see this particular memory.  After his actions today, it will no longer exist, because it will never happen.

 

“We have run out of time.  They are here,” Is the only warning he gets before the boom of thunder shakes the cave.  They will have brought all their power to bear, and it will not be enough to stop him.

 

“So I see,” Pride gets to his feet.  Pulling a dagger from his belt he starts to walk towards the gravestone.

 

“My Lord?” Sorrow calls to him.  “Good luck my lord.  I pray you are able to make sure this future never comes to pass.”

 

Resting against the gravestone Pride nods, “I will, my friend, I will.”  And then he draws the blade across his own throat, even as Sorrow, and a hundred others do the same.  Sharp pain blinds him for a second, until he grabs the power locked in his own blood, and that of the Elvhen dying around him, using it to activate the spell they’ve been weaving into the very stones surrounding this cave for the last century.  Magic flares around him and, if he could, he’d laugh as the very fabric of time itself is rent apart, throwing him backwards to a fixed unchangeable point.

 

His studies pay off as he is able to push beyond the fixed point.  Not by much. Not a lot. Just enough.

 

Attempting to gasp in shock he stares up at the sky as fluffy white clouds scud across it innocently.  Their combined power still sings in his veins.  A thought and his throat is healed.  Taking a deep breath he fills his lungs.  Pressing against his senses, dulling his perceptions, is the Veil. A flimsy, worn Veil, but still his Veil.  They have succeeded.  He has another chance.  He intends to use it wisely.

 

It is time to hunt down his Heart and make her his.  The future he has lived through will never come to pass.  She will make sure of it.

 

**oOo**

 

Fur in my face.  Groaning I push at Baron, “Ah, come on baby boy.  Can’t you give mummy a few more minutes of sleep?”  A rough tongue on my cheek is his only answer.  Grunting at him I blearily force one eye open.  My beautiful little kitten is sitting on the pillow next to mine.  His battle-scarred face pulled into a perpetual frown, one ear torn to almost nothing, a huge bruiser of a cat, and he’s my perfect sweetie.  “Okay baby boy, mummy is getting up, just to feed you.”  I get another head-butt from him and can’t keep the soft laughter inside.  To think this cat, with all he’s been through, is so loving, and adorkable, I’m blessed to have been adopted by him.

 

Rubbing his ears, I distract him so I can get carefully out of bed. Today must be a good day, my body doesn’t even ache.  Baron submits to letting me pick him up in my arms.  And then, like the royal personage he is, lets me carry him down the stairs to the kitchen of my small flat.  All the way I pepper his head with little kisses, and tell him what a wonderful baby boy he is to his mummy.  I’m such a damn soft touch.  Built so big he literally fills up my arms, I murmur to him, “Who is mummy’s extra special boy, hmm?  That would be you.  Baron is the best baby boy in the whole world.  Mummy loves you so much.”  Honestly I can’t believe how lucky I am.

 

What were the chances of ever meeting him?  I got guilt tripped into helping someone deliver donations to an animal shelter.  And there he was.  Battered and broken by life, so like me, so standoffish, so ready to believe the world will always hurt him.  And now look at him.  Cuddling him close, I lay my head atop his, and bask in the soft purrs emanating from him.  “Baron, my sweet Baron.  You are mummy’s best baby boy.  God, I’m so lucky to have found you.”  People say cats are incapable of giving you love, they’ve never met Baron, they’ll never know how loving he is.

 

Lost in our hugging, I startle when someone clears their throat.  A melodious, and very masculine, voice breaks into our moment, “Vhenan, from the memories you left me, you spoke warmly of your cat.  I have never had the pleasure of witnessing it, before now.”

 

No one should be in my flat.  And his voice is extremely familiar.  Jumping in surprise, I look up, to see a fictional character standing in the doorway to my living room.  Solas, Fen’Harel himself, is leaning against the door jam.  In game he wears horrible clothes most of the time.  Right now, he’s wearing skinny jeans, in grey, converse, and a t-shirt I’ve always wanted, in blue, with the words ‘Fade Nerd on the Streets, Dread Wolf in the Sheets’, and an amazing silhouette picture of an elf reading a book, whose shadow stretches out into a six eyed wolf’s.

 

I can’t hear the kitchen clock ticking.  Baron died fifteen years ago.  I never have days without pain anymore. I lost my flat and had to go into assisted accommodation. “I’m dreaming, aren’t I?”  It’s the only logical explanation, as I hug my cat closer to me.

 

“You are,” Solas nods.  “Though I fear you must wake up now ma’lath.”  Oh wow.  His voice is indescribable.  I’ve never been one for Solasmance, I preferred Cullen out of all the men, and Josephine of the women.  I may have dabbled in a bit of Dorian, or Bull, and uh, that sounded pretty dirty.  Stupid brain.  But, I only ever romanced Solas once.  Never again.  The power imbalance repulsed me.  The way I had to chase him.  His own attitudes to Thedas and its peoples.  No, I only romanced him for the achievement, and the fact I’m a completionist.

 

“I wonder why I’m dreaming of you?”  Why am I asking a figment of my imagination?  Though I think my imagination needs a pay rise, this is some seriously good shit.  “I haven’t played Inquisition for years.”  Maybe this is a prod to replay it?

 

Snorting he shakes his head, pushes off the wooden door jam, and saunters towards me.  “I am truly sorry my love.  You are no longer in your world.  You are in mine.  And while I have managed to steer events, however slightly, I could not pull you from the Fade.  You had to step physically out yourself.  I also could not save you from my Mark.  You will have to bear the weight of it upon your shoulders.”

 

As he reaches me, he lifts a hand to cup the side of my face. His hand is warm, those fingers of his long, and oh so gentle.  In real life I hate being touched.  It revolts me to my stomach.  But this is a dream, it’s not real, and I still stiffen at being touched.  “Forgive me my Heart,” His voice throbs.  If he wasn’t such a complete racist dick, I’d romance him more, just for this voice, it’s so expressive.  The voice acting on Inquisition is amazing.  “I did not listen to you.  I should have.”  Grey eyes with a hint of blue gaze down into mine.  He’s taller than me.  Freckles stand out starkly against his skin.

 

“Er,” Is my intelligent reply.  I’m sure this isn’t in the game.  I can only wonder at the route my subconscious is taking me down.

 

Those lips of his quirk at the edges, “I hope you like the body I have crafted for you.  I took a few liberties, but kept it within the range of DNA I chose.”  DNA?  How would Solas know about DNA?  “As Leliana will dig into everyone’s pasts, I have found someone who existed in Thedas, but who died.  I believe borrowing the identity of the dead will give you a reasonable chance to stay safe from her scrutiny.”

 

He’s still cupping my cheek, but now he’s leaning down.  When he rests his forehead to mine, he takes this big breath and then releases it in a rush.  His breath caresses my face.  His eyes stare into mine.  Seriously. What. The. Fuck?  Why is my mind doing this to me?

 

“Beloved.  Please, I am fully aware of your knowledge of me.  I know you have no reason to trust me.  But, my love, you must trust me.  Now, more than ever.”  Oh god, his eyes are doing the thing, where they go all emotional, his voice vibrating with emotion.  “Please.  MJ.”  How the fuck does he know my real name?  “Come with me if you want to live.”

 

Blinking in shock at him, forgetting for a moment this is just a dream, I blurt out, “Did you just quote Terminator to me?”

 

Stepping closer, his body presses against my arms, where I’m clutching Baron to me.  Stupid cat is still purring.  “Oh Vhenan, the things you have told me of your world.  I believe this greeting is the only one to convince you this is all real.”  His head moves so our noses are touching as well.  “I have spoken to Love, it has agreed to be your Spirit Guide.  It will help you, until you learn more of this world.  Including how to use your magic safely.”

 

“Magic?” I interrupt whatever he was going to say next. 

 

Chuckling he nods, which is weird, as it makes our noses bump a few times, “Yes my heart, you have magic.  I have augmented it with my own.  And now you must wake up.”  Both hands cup my face and he repeats, “Wake up!”

 

** oOo **

 

Blinking awake, I stare up at a stone ceiling, one that wasn’t in my bedroom, or in any hospital I’ve ever been in.

 

“ ** _Hello,_** ” A feminine voice says.  And I can’t hear it in my ears.  I can hear it in my head.  “ ** _Yes, I am inside you.  Though not possessing you_**.”  Huh?  “ ** _I am your Spirit Guide.  I am Love_**.”

 

Huh?

 

A loud crackling noise booms near me, and white-hot agony rips through me from my left hand.  Curling my body around it, I’m barely aware I’m screaming, too busy with the distracting pain to really notice.  When the pain leaves me, I pant trying to get my breath back.

 

Since my teens I’ve been in constant pain.  It’s only gotten worse with age.  I have a fairly high pain tolerance.  Nothing in my life has prepared me for this.

 

In the distance I can hear running footsteps.  Lifting up my left hand, which is now pleasantly numb, I can see a bright green glowing gash in the middle of it.

 

WTF?

 

Am I still dreaming?  Why would I dream of this?  I don’t want to dream of this.  I want to dream of Baron again.

 

“ ** _You are not dreaming.  This is very real.  Welcome to Thedas MJ_** ,” The voice in my head says.  Oh god, please let this be a dream.  Please let me wake up.


	2. Off Script

The stupid mark on my hand crackles again and I tense in anticipation of the pain.  Nothing.  Though it does mean I get to stare at my hand some more.  A hand which is wearing a really strange glove.

 

A normal glove would cover my whole hand.  This one has the tips of my fingers missing.  And part of the palm of my hand.  My right glove is the same.  They’re made up of varying sizes of leather, almost quilted together, with strips of fur between them.  To top it all off my fingernails are painted.  All different colours, like a rainbow.

 

Huh?

 

“ ** _Solas knows you enjoy colour.  He painted your fingernails, and toenails for you_** ,” My very own voice in my head says.  “ ** _I have told you, I am Love_**.”  Right.  Sure.  And the Dread Wolf himself painted my nails like a rainbow.  “ ** _Yes.  He did_**.”

 

Ignoring her, I check out my surroundings, anything to distract me from what’s going on.  I’m laying on a blanket, on a pile of really smelly straw.  Levering myself up into a sitting position, I hold my belly to stop it moving.  There’s no pain.  None at all.  It should have at least twinged. 

 

“ ** _Solas crafted this body for you.  He took the ‘blueprints’ of the dead girl and aged this body appropriately_**.”  Love says.  Creepy but handy of him.  “ ** _All your scars are superficial.  They will not hurt you.  You will be pain free_**.”  Now that is a nice thought, pain free.  I glance at the Mark.  Except for that.  “ ** _Yes, he was unable to coax the Mark to anyone else.  No one born of this Veiled world can contain the power_**.”

 

Touching my gloves, I notice I’m wearing trousers, and a top, all made the same way.  Oh, and instead of shoes, I think I’m wearing footwraps, again made up of the leather quilting with fur.  My toes stick out the end of the wraps, the bright colours of my toenails dull in this subdued light.  I wiggle my toes and they don’t feel cold in the slightest.

 

“ ** _Solas enchanted your wraps to keep your feet warm.  He was concerned with frostbite_** ,” The voice says.  Yep, because little old me is so very important to the Dread Wolf.  “ ** _Yes, you are.  He has dared much to undo his mistake_**.”

 

More footsteps in the distance, getting louder, so they must be moving closer.  From the fast pace, I’d say they were running.  Sitting on the blanket, I stare out of the small cell I’m in.  Outside of my cell are four armoured people.  They seem jumpy and their hands are resting on the pommels of their swords.

 

Someone barrels though a door I didn’t realise was there, it opens so violently it slams into the wall, loudly.  And then two more fictional characters are standing in what I can only assume is the dungeon under the Chantry.

 

Cassandra is exactly the same as the game portrays her, only scarier.  Dressed in metal armour, she oozes command, and rage.  I really don’t want to be me right now.  Behind her, Leliana slips almost unnoticed into the room.  She moves like a predator, one of those you don’t see, until it strikes.

 

“You,” Cassandra points to one of the four people out there.  “Open this cell now!”  Oh wow, I think I may actually piss myself if she does that to me.  Fumbling the keys a few times, the man does get my cell door open.  I’ve never wanted a door to stay shut so much in my life.

 

Stalking into my cell, Cassandra glares at me, “ ** _Breathe_** ,” Love’s voice is soft.  “ ** _You must breathe_**.”  Oh.  Yeah.  Love helps me calm my breathing down.  Instinctively I curl my legs up to my chest wrapping my arms around my middle.  No need to make myself a bigger target for her.

 

While I get myself under control, Cassandra has taken to circling me.  Oh god.  “Tell us what happened!”  She demands.  Her accent harsh, unyielding.  “The Conclave is destroyed.  Everyone who attended is dead.”  She thinks I did it.  “You are the only survivor.  The only witness.  You will tell us what happened.”

 

Uh, what?  This isn’t in the script.  Mind blanking completely, I can only stare at her, feeling like a startled deer caught in headlights.

 

Faster than I can follow, she grabs my left arm, and points at the Mark, “You fell out of a rift, dying, and with this.”  She shakes my arm strong enough she rattles my teeth.  “Tell me what happened!”  Leaning down she looks me straight in the eyes, and I can’t tear away from them.

 

A noise seems to be ripped from her and she stalks off, leaving me trembling behind her.  Holy fuck, she’s a force of nature.  Distracted by her, I barely notice the air displace to the side of me and jump in shock at Leliana kneeling there.  This woman is even more dangerous than Cassandra.  Though she has a kind expression on her face, her eyes are like ice.  “Do you remember what happened?  How this began?”  Her voice is soft, silken, and her accent is similar, but different, to French.

 

Love prompts me, and I say, “I remember running.  Things were chasing me.  And then… Two women?”  And I do vaguely remember two women.  “One of them was glowing,” So bright, so warm, like the sun.

 

“A glowing woman?”  Leliana echoes my words.  “Like the sun?”

 

Oh shit, I said some of that out loud, didn’t I?  “ ** _Yes_** ,” Love confirms it.  “ ** _Only the last part after glowing woman_**.”  Oh good.  I don’t want to monologue at people, that will certainly get me killed.

 

Leliana seems to be wanting more, so I add, “She reached out to me, and then.”  Pausing, I prod where the memory should be.  “Then I woke up here.”

 

“Thank you,” Leliana says.  Standing up, she and Cassandra go into a huddle.  Occasionally they break to look at me.  I can only wonder what they’re discussing about me.

 

Stepping apart, Cassandra says, “Go to the forward camp Leliana.  I will take her to the rift.”  Without a backward glance Leliana leaves us.  Cassandra walks back towards me, motioning me to get up.  “You will not run from me.  If you do, I will kill Solas, myself.  He will not live to see another day.”

 

WTF?  Why would she threaten me with Solas’ death?  “ ** _Because he has told then you are a married couple.  He even has the paperwork to prove it_** ,” Love says, dropping a complete bombshell on me.  I officially have no clue what the hell is going on.

 

“Okay,” I stammer out, utterly confused.

 

For a second her eyes soften, then they go back to hard lasers of rage.  “Good.  Follow me.”

 

Slowly, and carefully, getting to my feet, I hold my stomach, so it doesn’t move.  I breathe out in relief at the lack of pain.  I could get used to this.  Once I’m up, Cassandra turns without a word and strides off.  Oh fuck, I’m never going to keep up with her.

 

Shuffling after her, only a little faster than a snail.  I find her waiting at the base of a set of stairs.  Oh joy.  Stairs, my recent nemesis.  Bounding up them, she leaves me to sigh heavily, grab the hand rail, and inch my way up them, step by painfully slow step.  Reaching the top, I lean against the wall and pant.

 

Objectively I’m aware I’m not in pain.  I’m not even winded.  But I’ve lived in a painfilled body for decades.  My recent losing battle with terminal cancer, has limited my already limited mobility, to next to nothing.  I can’t seem to wrap my head around being able to move as freely as I currently can.  It seems lifelong habits are hard to break.  This new body is going to take a while to get used to.

 

Pushing away from the wall I stumble towards Cassandra.  This time she slows down, pacing beside me like a caged lioness.  She leads me out in the main Chantry, through it, and finally to a snowy Haven.

 

I get my first glimpse of the Breach, and stand there like an idiot, as she monologues about it.  Then I grip my hand, scream, and fall to ground as agony blinds me to all else.  When the tide of pain recedes she’s bending over me, “Solas says each time the Breach expands, your Mark spreads.  And it is killing you.”  Oh, this is bringing back memories.  A hospital room, a doctor, lots of sympathy and my recent terminal diagnosis.  “It may be the key to stopping this.  But there isn’t much time.”

 

Ah, the carrot of hope being dangled.

 

Only from play throughs I know Cassandra won’t like me trying to save myself.  She wants me to help people I don’t even know.  In what I’m suspecting isn’t a dream.  Oh god, please let this be a dream.  I want to wake up.  I want to go home.  Even if home means my death.  “Stopping this?  So I can help?”

 

Bingo.  Her eyes soften again for a second.  “So Solas claims.  You should hope, for your sake, he is right.”  And she’s back to harsh.  A snort comes out before I can stop it.  If he’s anything like the game I suppose it depends on your perspective.  “You do not think he is right?” She queries, going from a rage ball of grief to apocalyptic right in front of me.

 

Uh oh I may have done the wrong thing.  Love gives me a few prompts, so I pick the easiest one.  “In matters of magic, Solas is rarely wrong.  In matters of the heart, Solas is a complete idiot.”  I’m aware my tone is extremely droll.  She stares at me for far too long, I add, “Well, he is a man.”  That makes her snort, her eyes light up with humour, and her mouth tips on one side.  Ah, girls bonding over the stupidity of men.  A time-honoured tradition.

 

Cassandra helps me get to my feet.  I dislike being touched, but her help is appreciated.  And then we’re back to plodding at glacial speed.  We pass through Haven, but no one is glaring too much at me.  And her speech is different.

 

“The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justina, Head of the Chantry.  This Conclave was hers.  It was a chance for peace between Mages and Templars.  And now she is gone.  Taken from us.  By an unknown person,” She guides me on the path we need to take.  While I mull over not being the main suspect.

 

“ ** _Solas arranged it_** ,” Love says.  How the hell did Solas manage to pull that off?  “ ** _He adjusted some things.  You will not like what he adjusted.  But they will help to hide you better_**.”  Oh god.  I’m kind of scared to find out what he did.  From the game none of his plans were ever good plans, they tended to bring about the end of the world.

 

Outside of the villages gates, we’re met by two elven scouts.  I recognise Charter from the game, but not the brunette with her.  Both women are dressed in the Inquisition scout armour sets.  Both have bows over their shoulders.  And it looks like they’re going with us.  They fall into step as I shuffle along wondering how long I’ve got until my arm falls off.

 

“ ** _I could help you_** ,” Love says, and so far, it has been helpful.  If a bit on the nagging side.  “ ** _You are not bound to one shape.  You have the ability to change your shape_**.”  Holy shit, I’m a shapeshifter?  “ ** _Yes.  You know four alternate forms_**.”  Oh wow.  This is going to be awesome.  What forms could I know?  Wolf?  Tiger?  Eagle?  Owl?  Shark?  Oh, wait, what about a dragon?  Internally I squeal happily, something is finally going my way.  “ ** _A mouse_** ,” She says, and I deflate.  A mouse?  Seriously?  A small defenceless mouse?

 

Reaching a bridge Cassandra gives me a speech about lashing out like the sky.  We inch across the bridge at my crawl of a walk speed, before Love adds, “ ** _Would one of the other shapes be more helpful?_** ”  Possibly.  Anything must be better than what I’m doing right now or being a small scurrying mouse.


	3. Honey Badger

In my head Love shows me the four animals I can turn into.  We dismiss the mouse as too small and slow.  The tiny bird is a no no, as Cassandra is likely to lose her shit if she thinks I can just fly off.  An otter is seriously cool, but there simply isn’t enough water to justify it.  Which leaves the final animal, one I’m stunned I can use.  A honey badger, the most BAMF weasel type ever.  They can back down lions and hyenas.  They eat snakes for a snack.

 

Clearing my throat, I stop my slow shuffling walk, “Excuse me.  Might I make a suggestion?”

 

Cassandra also stops and says, “It would depend on the suggestion.”

 

I take that as a yes.  “We’re moving too slow.  I can’t move fast enough.”

 

Interrupting me Cassandra says, “We are aware of your injuries.  We are unable to procure a horse to carry you.  I am sorry; you will have to continue walking.”

 

Waving a hand to stop her from talking, I butt in with, “I meant, I could change my shape.  It will allow me to move faster.  Meaning we can get to wherever you are taking me faster.”

 

Eyes narrowing, she glares are me, and I try not to shake in my footwraps and take my idea back.  “What kind of shape?”  She seems to be seriously suspicious.  It makes me doubly glad I didn’t pick the bird.

 

“A honey badger,” I say as calmly as I can.  I attempt to keep eye contact with her and keep my body language as open as possible.  Well as possible as I can when I’m holding my stomach still.

 

Her glare gets fiercer, and only Love keeps me upright, and not curled into a whimpering ball.  She’s a damn scary woman.  I’m not betting against her in a fight.  To my surprise she nods, “A badger is acceptable.  If this shape will let you walk faster, we can get you to Solas sooner.  And there we will test your Mark on a smaller rift.”

 

“Thank you,” I give her a small tentative smile.  And then hit a mental wall.  I have no idea how to change my shape.  There’s no user interface to help me.

 

“ ** _I will help you_** ,” Love says, and it guides me through the spell.  Having it in my head, is seriously handy.  It simply shows me the right images, and presto, one spell later, I’m gazing up at Cassandra.

 

Twisting my head around, I glance over my body.  Long claws, perfect for digging, and climbing.  Black undercarriage, a white stripe down my middle, and a grey back.  Shaking out my new body, I’m almost all muscle.  “Okay, I’m ready,” I tell her.

 

Mouth opening and closing a few times, she nods and walks off across the bridge.  I trot after her.  Oh this is much better.  Now we’re motoring along at a fast walking pace.

 

At the end of the bridge is a set of gates.  Cassandra gets them open.  When we pass them I get a nose full of dead body.  It seems my new nose is extremely sensitive.  Oh god.  This dream is turning out to be too real.  And bodies mean people died.

 

Aware of my distress Love steps in with, “ ** _Now would be a good time to learn a simple barrier_**.”  Distracted from my more morbid thoughts by the idea of more magic, I perk up.  It does the same as before, filling my mind’s eye with images of barriers, and how they’re constructed.  Extremely smooth, slippery, hollow, nano tubes, created from hard light, are put into triangles, and then all linked together.  Any concussive force is stopped by the triangles absorbing the impact.  Sharp cuts simply slide off the smooth tubes.  Finally, magic is filtered around the body encased in the barrier, through the holes in the triangles.  Very simple, once you know what you’re looking at.

 

Absorbed in my lesson, the Mark takes me by surprise when it flares up.  Grunting in pain, I flop feebly onto my side, as my front left paw glows brightly.  In the sky above, the Breach crackles and booms.

 

Recovering afterwards, I’m surprised when Cassandra kneels beside me.  Gently she helps me roll onto my belly, and then up onto wobbly paws.  “The pulses are coming faster now,” She says, unnecessarily I feel.  “The larger the Breach grows, the more rifts appear, the more demons we face.”

 

“Then we should hurry,” I stagger forward, gathering momentum.  The bipeds of the group are soon moving at what appears to be a comfortable jog.  I’m cruising along, keeping up with them, and it feels effortless.

 

Crossing another bridge, we’re all caught off guard when a green meteor slams into it, destroying it, and pitching us down to a frozen over stream.  “ ** _Hurry, the barrier_** ,” Love says, then helps me cast the spell.  We all spill onto the ice.  The two archers tumble and come up on their feet.  Cassandra is less graceful but is only seconds behind them.  I’m shocked when I get to my paws at the same time as Cassandra.

 

Another green meteor slams down into the frozen water near us.  This time something bubbles out of it.  “ ** _A demon_** ,” Love murmurs so sadly in my head.

 

“Stay behind me!”  Cassandra’s already drawn her sword, and is charging it, before I can understand what the fuck is happening.

 

I can sometimes do as I’m told.  I happily stay where I am, as she hits it with her sword, and the archers bury arrows in it.  Stunned by the sheer level of violence being unleashed in front of me, I barely notice the patch of ice bubbling again.

 

“ ** _Beware!_** ”  Love warns me.  Thankfully, I’m a short little honey badger, and I lunge forward under the claws headed in my direction.  “ ** _Here, this is how to attack_** ,” Love drops more images in my head.  Claws built for digging, grip the ice surprisingly well, allowing me to scoot behind the thing, and then launch myself at where its hips would be.  Biting down on the strange hard, and yet soft, flesh of the demon, I can hear loud growling coming from my throat.

 

Twin impacts make the demon stagger, as the archers change their target, to my demon.  Two more shots each and the thing dissipates into thin air.  Leaving only Cassandra’s to be dealt with.  We don’t even have to engage it, she slices heavily at it, as yet more arrows land with devastating effect.

 

Wow, I think I just survived my first fight.

 

Thankfully my body is currently compact, so any trembles should be overlooked, and Love helps me deal with the aftershocks, and adrenaline drain.

 

After checking we’re all okay, Cassandra makes us press on.  Three fights later, and we reach a familiar set of stairs.  “We’re getting close to the rift, you can hear the fighting.”

 

Leading us up them, she brings us to the top, and then over to the fight.  Running at her heels, Love and I spin a barrier over all of us as we reach the melee.  Cassandra slams into a nearby demon.  Arrows pierce their targets.  And I run towards the one man who might know what the hell is going on.

 

Solas is spinning and twirling his staff.  Blue white sparks flow from it, coating demons in what must be ice.  Even as he summons a ball of fire with his left hand, and throws it, consuming the demon he’d aimed at in flames.

 

A demon crosses my path.  Throwing myself at its back, I grab it with my teeth, shaking my body.  Pulling it off balance, I’m happy when it staggers, leaving it wide open to an attack.  Multiple impacts hit in fast succession and it dissipates.

 

For a few deafening seconds, silence reigns over the battlefield.  Then arms scoop me up.  “Quickly Vhenan,” a known male voice says.  “Before more come through.”

 

Solas carries me to the rift, lifting my front left paw up to it.  From all the fanfictions I thought Solas did something at this point to make the Mark work.  He doesn’t.  All the magic comes from the Mark.  It hungrily leaps towards the rift, and pauses, Love and I have to concentrate to force it to close the rift.  With an eerie whine, the rift does close, and a waft of energy eddies from it then fades.

 

Arms stay wrapped around me, even as Solas bumps down to sit on the ground, me settled in his lap, and his face buried into my fur.  It means my nose is pressed against his neck, between his skin and his clothes.  I get to smell Solas at close range, and he smells, male, herbs, paper, ozone, but under that is me, and weirdly he smells of home and safety.

 

“ ** _Because he is those two things to you_** ,” Love says, and I think it sounds confident in its statement.  “ ** _I am.  You will see_**.”

 

A loud ‘kyrya-ya-ya-ya’ noise is coming from me.  He’s pressing kisses on my fur, rubbing fingers through my fur, and speaking in Elvhen.  Lots of Vhenan’s happening, Ma Lath’s, Ma Sa’Lath, that kind of thing.  I can’t get enough of the smell of home and safety on his skin.  To the point, with Love’s goading, I lick him.  Oh god, he tastes amazing, the taste of home is almost better than the smell.  Wiggling in his arms, and my loose honey badger skin, gives me plenty of wiggle room, I lick all the way from one side of his neck, across his throat, to the other side of his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honey Badger... Because of reasons


	4. Introductions and Reunions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to DryadDuir for spotting the mistake at the end, this should have now fixed it.

Solas’ hand running through my fur slows down.  He’s stopped kissing my fur, he’s simply resting his face on my back.  And I’ve stopped embarrassing myself by making weird noises and have settled in to sniff his neck, quietly.

 

This is the weirdest dream I’ve ever had.  Why am I so comfortable with being touched?  And touched by a man?

 

When he pulls back from me, I have to stop sniffing him, which is a pain.  It does mean he’s free to rearrange me a bit in his lap, so he can lower his face to mine.  Brave man, with my current set of teeth, I can bite through bone.  Putting his forehead to mine, he says “Ma Vhenan.”  His voice is doing the thing again, and my claws curl at the sound.  “Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that Mark upon your hand.”  He’s following the script.  “I theorised the Mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake.  And it seems I was correct.”

 

Moving closer to us Cassandra pipes up with, “Meaning it could also close the Breach itself.”  Hope flickers in her eyes, or at least the rage fades, for a few moments.

 

“Possibly,” Solas hedges.  “It seems, my love, you hold the key to our salvation,” He gazes down at me, extremely calmly for a man who has just said I’m the hope of Thedas.  If I’m their hope, we’re all screwed.

 

“ ** _Untrue.  You are a good choice to lead them to salvation_** ,” Love says.  It’s sharing my head, it should be able to see I’m not ideal hero material.  “ ** _I suppose it depends on your idea of ‘hero’_**.”

 

“Good to know,” A deep gravelly male voice says, drawing my attention from Love, and from Solas.  My favourite dwarf, after Flint Fireforge of the Dragonlance books, is fiddling with his gloves.  “Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.”  Red gold hair is tied back, his nose is obviously badly healed from being broken more than once, and his coat really is open, showing off his chest.  How is he not freezing to death?

 

Swaggering towards us, he does his famous introduction, “Varric Tethras; rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwanted tagalong.”  Winking bravely at Cassandra, he doesn’t flinch at the noise she makes.  I’d have flinched.

 

Still in the arms of an ancient, wolf, trickster god, I stare awestruck at the man with a crossbow almost as big as he is.  I have no idea what to say to him.  What do you say to a man who has digitally been your friend for years?  Through the good, and the bad?  A man who, even after Anders, still managed to go on to befriend the Spirit boy Cole?  Who stepped up and worked hard at rebuilding his beloved Kirkwall? 

 

All I can hope for, is Hawke was a good friend to him, and did stand by him.  If not, I’m going to be rude to them when we finally meet.

 

A warm, deep chuckle shakes my body, as it rumbles out of Solas.  I can see why Varric named him Chuckles.  “Ma Vhenan.  You have guessed correctly.  This truly is THE Varric Tethras.  Author of so many of your favourite books.”  It is enough to break my stare to glance up at Solas.  He gives me a very serious nod.

 

“Ah Chuckles,” Varric steps closer.  “You should have said your wife was a fan.  I’m sure we’ll have lots to talk about in the valley.”

 

Barging forward, Cassandra sounds outraged saying, “Absolutely not.  Your help is appreciated Varric.  But…”

 

She doesn’t get to finish as he breaks in with, “Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker?  Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore.  You need me.”  They go into a silent standoff.  Neither of them backing down.

 

Solas stands up, me in his arms.  Why am I still in his arms?  Why aren’t I trying to get away from him?  Why does he feel so damn safe?  “Thank you Varric.  Your help is welcome,” Solas says.  Something is different from how he comes across in the game.

 

“ ** _Solas has a plan_** ,” Love says.  Seriously those words fill me with dread.  I wonder if that’s why he’s called the Dread Wolf?  “ ** _He has decided he will work to make himself the Inquisitor, with you as his main advisor. Meaning you make the decisions, and he will do all he can to make them happen_**.”  I have no idea how to even process that.  “ ** _He is aware his ideas, and decisions, do not lead to positive outcomes.  So, he’s leaving the decisions to you, and he will help you bring them to a bountiful fruition_**.”

 

Reeling from Love’s words, I almost miss Solas saying, “Cassandra, you should know; the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen.  Whilst my wife is a mage.  I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power.”  Oh fuck, he called me his wife.  And I’m still in his arms like I belong here.

 

“ ** _You do_** ,” Love doesn’t help at all.

 

“Understood,” She says, a deep sigh escaping.  “We must get to the forward camp quickly.”

 

“Agreed,” My supposed husband says, lowering me to the ground.  “Will the other two archers be joining us?  Whilst speed is of the essence.  We also need to survive reaching the forward camp.”

 

“Thank you Solas, that is a good suggestion.  They were of help against the demons to reach this point.”  Cassandra waves to them, and the two elven archers join us.  “Charter, Beech, your aid in this endeavour is necessary.”  Oh, so the other archer’s name is Beech.

 

“We understand Seeker,” Charter says, both their hands making the arm across the chest salute.

 

On the ground by Solas’ legs, I eye up the fence I’ll be able to easily slip through, as Cassandra says, “This way, down the bank, the road ahead is blocked.”

 

Solas’ adding “We must move quickly,” Is broken by him changing his shape into a white wolf.  Holy fuck.  His nose comes down to sniff my fur.  Even as I shove my extra sensitive sniffer at him, which now picks up the scents of male, wolf, herbs, me, safety, and home.  “Come beloved.  Stay close to me and I will protect you.  Cassandra please lead the way.”

 

Cassandra’s mouth has dropped open and she’s staring at us.  Shaking herself she does lead the way, hopping over the fence with ease.  I wiggle through the fence, while Solas gracefully soars over it in a single bound.  Show off.

 

Varric and the other two archers bring up the rear.  “Well Bianca’s excited,” He says as he vaults over the fence.  Considering how short he is, he gets over it very easily.

 

Muzzle lowering towards me, Solas says, “Bianca is the name of Varric’s crossbow.” Which I already knew, but I glance back at the man anyway.

 

“Bianca and I have been through a lot together,” Varric reaches up to pat the wooden stock of his crossbow.  “She’s always good company when things get rough.”

 

Trotting at Solas’ side, I make it down the path, to the frozen lake.  Where demons are scudding about like twisted pond skaters.  Mid step Solas transforms back into his Elvhen form, stating “Demons ahead!”

 

Thank you Captain Obvious.

 

The addition of Varric, and Solas, changes the dynamics of the fight.  I’m still the barrier go to person, leaving Solas free to use his staff to slow the demons via frost, and immolate them with his fireballs.  Varric’s repeating crossbow mows down the demons, it shoots with clearly lower damage and penetration, but the sheer speed and precision, quickly overcomes those drawbacks, and is a little frightening.

 

We plough through the demons here and up the stairway leading to the forward camp.  Solas slipping between shapes as needed.  I stick to my bad ass shape.  Honey badger for the win.

 

Surprisingly our group is mostly silent.  No one really talking.  And as we reach the next set of stairs, Varric doesn’t ask me if I’m innocent.  What has Solas done?  How has he managed this?

 

And do I really want to know?

 

As we ascend the stairs, Love says, “ ** _Now would be a good time to discuss healing.  Especially bone healing, nerve healing, pain blocking, and how to create anti-venom, and a type of antibiotics_**.”  Now?  I huff a bit as I struggle through a snow pile.  Honey badgers are not built for winter wonderlands.  “ ** _Yes, you will find the knowledge extremely useful.  You need not fear about your ability to faint at the sight of blood_**.”  Good to know.  “ ** _As I will teach you how to ‘scan’ a body to learn what needs healing_**.”  Awesome.

 

Hopping up the path, I let Love fill my mind with images of bones.  I already knew they aren’t solid, not really, they’re not true honeycomb as they aren’t hexagonal, but strands of bone.  I find this part easy to understand.  Nerves are almost as simple, a sheath of fat with the nerve in the middle, sodium and potassium switching places inside the nerve to create the electrical charge running down the nerve.  Rebuilding one, or reattaching them, is the hard part, but Love agrees to help with it as I practice on my first patient.  Pain blocking turns out to be stupidly simple, A nerve has break points in it, where the ‘signal’ jumps the gap via chemicals, all I have to do is block the receptor, and no more pain.

 

Holy crap anti-venom is complicated.  In order to create an anti-venom, I have to first understand the venom itself.  Only then can I magically create the right protein to bind to the venom rendering it inert.  And in the case of some venom, they aren’t just one compound; they’re made up of several, meaning I have to make several anti-venom proteins to nullify it.  This is way above my understanding right now.  Love agrees, “ ** _When we have time to sit, and think, we will go over this again.  For the time being, I can show you the right anti-venoms to create.  Later I will show you how I came to these shapes and ‘proteins’, as you call them_**.”  Sounds good to me.

 

Strangely antibiotics are not too complicated.  They do one of two jobs, they either target the bacteria’s ability to reproduce, so limiting the numbers attacking, or they kill a bacterium, by doing something like destroying its cell wall.  Shockingly simple, yet complicated.  I need to know what bacteria need to be either stopped, or destroyed, so I’ll know what type of antibiotic to use.

 

Thankfully the scanning is the simplest of spells so far.  Even more so than the barrier.  All you do is let your magic ‘look’ at the person in question, then create a mental image of their body in your mind, and that’s what I’ll be looking at.  My mediocre biological knowledge from Earth is going to stand me in epic stead here.  In order to heal someone, I have to first understand what’s wrong with them, then how to ‘fix’ it.  On Earth I’m not a trained medical professional.  Here on Thedas, with magic capable of ‘looking’ at an atomic level, and a Spirit Guide to help me, and with my Earth level of education, I can do things similar to miracles.

 

Holy fuck, I think I’m the healer of the group.  “ ** _Yes, you are correct, that will be one of your roles.  Solas knows how much you struggle to harm others.  So, he is doing all he can, to give you the roles you know as ‘Healer’, ‘Buffing’, and ‘Crowd Control’._** ”  As I start to get anxious over the sheer amount of responsibility being shoved my way, it says, “ ** _I will be with you.  I am here to help you_**.”

 

Thank god one of us knows what they’re doing.

 

“I hope Leliana made it through all this,” Cassandra says, cleaning more demon ichor off her sword.

 

Strangely it’s Varric who comforts her with, “She’s resourceful Seeker.”  Yep, and apart from Solas, she’s the most dangerous person on this mountainside.

 

Speak of the wolf and he shall chime in with, “We shall see for ourselves at the forward camp.  We are almost there.”  Which is good news.  My paws do not like the snow.

 

Reaching the top of all these blasted stairs, Cassandra cries out, “Another rift!”  And then bolts forward into the fray.

 

For fucks sake!  God damn all tanks, and them never waiting for back up.

 

Forced to chase after her, I ‘chuck’ the barrier at her just as she slams into a demon.  It means the spell also coats, or covers, a bunch of other fighters, and dagger wielding rogues.  With ranged support from Varric, Charter, and Beech.  Along with Solas slowing the demons with frost.  The demons are whittled down and sucked up into the rift.  Leaving me free to wave a paw at it, and with Love’s help, slam it shut.

 

Shaking my paw, I try and shake some feeling back into it.  It’s going a little numb.  Even as one of the fighters, a huge horned man, jogs over to our group, “Do any of your mages know healing magic?”  His voice is seriously deep, it reminds me of the second male voice available to the Inquisitor.  He also sounds desperate.  And I can’t help eying up the massive two-handed sword he’s carrying in one hand like it weighs nothing.

 

Solas steps forward, “My wife does.”  Oh shit.  I really am the healer.  Oh god.  Please don’t let me throw up, or faint, or both.

 

“ ** _I am here_** ,” Love says reassuring me.

 

“Good,” The horned man says, his shoulders slumping a little.  “My sister’s arm is broken.  And we think some of the demon’s poison got in the wound.”  As he’s standing next to Solas, I get to see just how tall this Vashoth is.  Solas barely comes up to his shoulder, and Solas is pretty tall.  Add the fact his shoulder span is humongous, and my brain refuses to comprehend how big he is.

 

In the background I can hear Cassandra saying, “The rift is gone.  Open the gate.”

 

“Its stuck!”  A man calls back.  “We’ll get it open as soon as we can Lady Cassandra!”  I’m so glad I’m not that guy.

 

“None of those are a problem,” Solas scoops me up into his arms.  “My wife is an accomplished healer.  I have yet to meet anyone her equal in the healing arts.”  Carried over to one of the makeshift barriers, I do wonder how many times he can shoehorn the fact I’m supposed to be the healer into the conversation.

 

“Herah,” The man calls out to a big body slumped against the wall.  “I found a healer.”

 

Stirring, the body turns out to be a horned woman.  Same bronze coloured skin, same facial features.  Where he has buzzed black hair.  She has white hair, tied back, so I’ve no idea how long it is.  “Kaaras?”  Her voice is the second Inquisitors too, only the female one.

 

“Hurry,” The man named Kaaras motions to us.  “Please.”


	5. Healz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for missing last weeks update.

Solas places me on the ground near the woman, I get an up-close look at her screwing her face up, “Um, why is there an animal near me?”

 

Oh, yeah, I’m still a honey badger.  With only a few prompts from Love, I transform back into a human.  “Hello, I’m Eevee,” I tell her.  Her eyes open wide in surprise, even as Solas settles behind me, his arm coming around me to support me.  “Your brother said you needed healing.”

 

“Fuck,” Her brother swears loudly, stepping back, straight into the wall behind him.

 

Swallowing loudly Herah motions to her right arm with her left one, “Demon got me.  I think poison got in too.  Hurts too much to be a simple break.”  Her eyes keep swinging back to my face, or more accurately, my forehead.

 

“Okay,” I give her my best fake smile.  The one perfected from years of dealing with idiots, and having to be ‘polite’ to those that hurt me.  After all, the victim is the one who should apologise for inconveniencing the attacker.  “I’ll give you a quick scan, check the break, and also check for venom in your body.”  Oh, crap I hope Love knows what it’s doing.

 

Luckily Love does know what it’s doing.  Under its guidance, I perform the scan, find the break is a relatively simple one, few of the nerves are damaged, and she has indeed been envenomated.  “Right, well the break is simple enough.  The venom is a bit of cocktail, but nothing we can’t get sorted quickly.”  Love guides me through talking to Herah, letting the woman know what I’m going to be doing, and why.  My patient nods through most of it and doesn’t say no to anything.

 

Now comes the hard part.  Healing.  Again Love guides me with images in my head.  How to block pain for Herah, as I heal the bone, weaving the bone strands to the point it would be hard for an x-ray to tell there had ever been a break there.  Double checking the nerves inside, to see everything has settled back into place without issue.  Then we tackle the venom.  Love is as good as its word.  It shows me the venom shapes, and then what anti-venom I need to create to nullify it.  It also prompts me to flood Herah’s body with a particular type of antibiotic, which is perfect for stopping infections caused through injuries, or battle wounds.

 

Strangely coincidental how Love just happened to teach me the specific healing Herah needed.  It doesn’t rise to the bait staying silent in my head.

 

Finished, I lean back into Solas.  His arm has been around me the whole time.  He’s a man.  I should be afraid of him.  When his chin rests on my shoulder, I lean my head against his.  It’s like I’ve done this all my life.  As if a missing puzzle piece has clicked into place.  “ ** _It has_** ,” Love says.

 

“There, all done,” I tell Herah.  She’s busy flexing her right hand, and then flexes her whole arm.

 

“How?”  Her face is kind of a picture.  Maybe healers are rare among the Vashoth.

 

A deep rumbling chuckle in my ear makes my toes curl, “Ma lath is one of the most accomplished healers I have ever met.”  Solas presses the side of his face closer to mine, even as his arm tightens and then relaxes.

 

“Chuckles,” Varric says from behind us, making me tense at how close he is.  “You should have said your wife’s a Spirit Healer.  I still wouldn’t have believed she could heal a broken arm so fast.”

 

“Ah, Master Tethras,” Solas’ voice is right in my ear.  “My wife is not a Spirit Healer.  She cannot bond with a Spirit, as she is incapable of being possessed.  Eevee is simply the most gifted healer Thedas will ever see.”  Love did all of the hard work, figuring out what needed to be fixed, and how.  But I still duck my head against Solas flushing with pride at the praise in his words.  Then I blink, because technically I am a Spirit Healer, after all Love is my Spirit Guide.  Like Wynne, and Anders, with Faith, and Justice.

 

“ ** _We are not the same as those you call Spirit Healers_** ,” It says softly.  “ ** _For them, a spirit bonds with them for life.  When they die, the spirit with them dies too.  And the spirit occupies the same space a demon would when it ‘possesses’ someone_**.”  The spirit dies?  I go cold at the thought of something happening to Love.  “ ** _I am well.  Our arrangement is very different.  I am only a guide for you.  I am only very loosely connected to you, enough to speak and guide you, and that is all.  I cannot be influenced by your emotions; or corrupted by them_**.”  Like Justice and Anders.  “ ** _Exactly.  I am safe from you.  And you are safe from me.  I cannot control your body, you inhabit it all by yourself_**.”

 

A loud snort in front of me, has me looking at Herah as she says, “Incapable of being possessed?  Yeah, that’s not possible.  Anyone can be possessed. Even Tranquil.”   She’s staring at my forehead again.  What she said is true.  Tranquil can be possessed, though they have to be forced into the possession with magic, demons in the games tended to ignore them otherwise.

 

“True,” Solas nods to her, which is weird, as I can feel him nod, his cheek sliding against mine.  “I have never understood why Eevee cannot be possessed, but I have witnessed demons attempting to do so, and failing.  They appeared as puzzled by it as I.”

 

In the games, and revealed Lore, Solas as Fen’Harel was said to go out of his way to not lie.  He’d misdirect you, twist your understanding of something so it looked the opposite, and omit things all the time.  But lie?  Only very rarely and as a last resort.  I wonder if he’s lying right now?  “ ** _No_** ,” Love seems very sure.  “ ** _I am.  And he is correct.  You cannot be possessed_**.”  Really?  Why?  “ ** _Because you are not of Thedas.  Your universe is ‘blended’, the Fade and the Real are one.  So you are ‘blended’ too.  There is no path between the Fade and Real inside of you, so demons are unable to follow it to the point of possession_**.”  Turning that over in my head I decide I have no idea what the hell it’s talking about.  I’ll have to work on it.

 

“My beautiful wife is literally the only person who could have walked in the Fade, as she did, and not have to fear possession,” Solas is saying.  “Perhaps that is one of reasons why only she survived.”  Of course this is the point my hand flares, giving me a prod to hurry the fuck up, and get the Breach stabilized.

 

Kaaras’ gasp is loud from where he’s leaning against the wall, “That was you?  You’re the Witness?”  Why am I not the Prisoner?  What the hell did Solas do and how much is it going to go to shit on me?

 

“It was,” Solas answers for me.  “And I believe the gate has been opened.  We should continue on our journey.  We must get you to the First Rift quickly.  Any hope this world has, lies in your hands, my love.”  Taking that as my cue to change back into a honey badger, I’m soon shaking out my small body, ready for the next part.  A kiss is placed on my head, before Solas lets me go, standing up and leading me over towards Cassandra.  She’s finished chewing the gate guards out and greets us with a nod.

 

Through the gate, we reach the forward camp.  In the distance I can hear Leliana.  We must be close.  There’s a man with her, and he sounds argumentative and seriously negative.  Weaving through the people crowding here, and the equipment strewn about, we find them at the far end.

 

“Ah, here they come,” An older man in what must be Chantry robes says.  He’s the negative person.  His mouth is puckered, and he looks like he’s sucking a really bitter lemon.

 

Walking towards us, Leliana says, “You made it.  Chancellor Roderick, this is,”

 

“I know who they are,” He interrupts her rudely.  “Though it seems you were wrong.  The Witness isn’t here.”  Ah, I remember him now.  He’s the bloke who causes lots of problems but in the end saves the people of Haven, with the summer path.

 

“My wife is here,” Solas says motioning to me.  Changing back to human, I’m left crouched on the ground.  Roderick gasps at the transformation.  Kneeling next to me, Solas puts his arm around me, again, and helps me to my feet.  Pressed against his body, I rest there, panting, though I’m not out of breath, with the arm closest to Solas around his back, and my other, clutching my stomach to keep it still.

 

“So it’s true,” Roderick sounds surprised.  He soon follows it with, “As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this Witness into protective custody, and escort her to Val Royeaux immediately.”  He reminds me of those little people who hates their jobs using it to spread his misery far and wide.

 

“’Order me!’”  Cassandra puffs straight up.  “You are a glorified clerk.  A bureaucrat!”  Her option of him seems low.

 

“And you are a thug,” Roderick says scathingly.  I don’t think they like each other very much.  “But a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry!”  Ouch.  Hitting Cassandra in her Faith is a bad move.  I’ve seen her fight now, he’s either really brave, or really stupid.  I vote for the latter.

 

Leliana snipes back with, “We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor, as you well know.”  I’ve always wondered if it was set up so the Left, and Right Hands, wouldn’t be held back by the Chantry.  They could operate outside of its rigid hierarchy.

 

Roderick almost yells, “Justina is dead!”  I see the rank of Captain Obvious is widespread.  “We must elect a replacement and obey her orders on the matter!”

 

Letting go of my stomach, I tug on Solas’ tunic.  I’ve always wanted to know something.  Those far too clever eyes flick to me, and he lifts an eyebrow, so I murmur, “What would happen if I was taken to Val Royeaux?  Obviously, I’d die before I could reach it, but what would the Mark do?  Would the sky rip open from the Mark all the way to the Breach?”

 

Bustling towards us, Roderick barks out, “What?  What did she say?  Does she know who murdered the Divine?”  And now everyone else is staring at us.  Cassandra’s hand tightens of her sword pummel.  Leliana steps closer.

 

Seemingly unaffected by all the attention, or the potential violence in the air, Solas says, “My wife asked what affect her travelling to Val Royeaux would have on the Breach, and therefore, on all of Thedas, and its peoples.”  Not quite the way I phrased it.

 

Stopping in his tracks, Roderick gasps, “You would willingly travel to Val Royeaux?”  No one else says anything.  Feeling like a deer caught in headlights, I turn my head into Solas’ shoulder.

 

Arm tightening momentarily, Solas says, “Eevee has no interest in challenging the Divine.  Who would dare speak against the Most Holy.”  What?  I have no idea what he’s talking about.  There is no Divine at the moment.  “Who would be so treasonous as to work against Andraste’s will?”  Drawing himself up, Solas adds, “Though I forbid my wife from travelling to Val Royeaux, until the Breach is either closed, or at least stabilized.  I fear the dire consequences to her, and all of Thedas, should anything happen to my Heart, and through her the Mark.  We do not yet understand what the Mark is.  What would the effects to the Breach be if she were to die?”

 

On cue the Mark flares, causing me to cry out in pain.  I find myself clinging to Solas, as he supports me, keeping me on my feet.  “Vhenan,” He holds me tightly.  As I recover, he keeps talking, “And be assured my wife is dying.  I urge you, let us try to close the Breach.  Eevee will not live long enough to reach Val Royeaux.  And having observed her closing smaller rifts, I theorise the backlash from her death, may potentially, rip the sky open, all the way from the Mark to the Breach.”  Oh, that sounds bad.  Also very similar to my words.

 

“Well shit,” A deep voice says from behind us.  Glancing over Solas’ shoulder I can see Kaaras, and Herah, have followed us.  He’s staring up at the sky.  “What can we do to help?”  His sister gives him side eye but doesn’t say anything.

 

Inclining his head, very regally I think, Solas says, “Ma Serannas.  Your help is welcome.  If you would join us in escorting my wife, up the mountain, to the rift under the Breach.  It is the first rift.  If we can close it, we may close the Breach, or stabilise it long enough to try again.”

 

The siblings look at each other, and they both nod.  This time it’s Herah who speaks, “We’ve done escorts in the past.  You can count on us.”  Guess our party just got bigger.  Though I feel a bit bad for them.  I hate escort quests.  The person you have to escort, me, is always so damn slow.  Of course, I can change shape, so I shouldn’t slow them down too much.

 

“No,” Roderick stalks over to a nearby table.  “Call a retreat Seeker.  Our position here is hopeless”

 

She’s not listening to him, “We can stop this before it’s too late.”

 

“How?” Roderick throws his hands up.  “You won’t survive long enough to reach the Temple, even with all your soldiers.”  Oh, he of little faith.

 

“We must get to the Temple.  It’s the quickest route,” Cassandra says, pointing to the map I’d not noticed on the table.

 

Leliana points to a different point of the map, “But not the safest.  Our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains.”  Ah, this is the first big decision in the game.

 

Neither Hand of the Divine are paying us any attention, as Cassandra disagrees with Leliana, “We lost contact with an entire squad on that path.  It is too risky.”  The scouts.  She’s talking about the scouts trapped by the rift.

 

“Listen to me,” Roderick says, probably trying to appeal to them.  “Abandon this now before more lives are lost!”  He is a negative Nelly.

 

The Breach reminds us of its looming presence.  A crack like thunder races across the sky, as my hand echoes the sound.  A scream is wrenched out of me.  My body jerks in agony.  Only Solas keeps me on my feet.  Trembling in his arms, I just want this to be over.

 

“We take the mountain path,” Solas says as I get my breath back.  A hand rubs a soothing circle on my back.  “We must move quickly.  Perhaps we will find these scouts of yours, and they can join us.”

 

“Very well,” Cassandra says accepting his idea without argument.  Going to her fellow Hand, she adds, “Leliana, bring everyone left in the valley.  Everyone.”

 

Roderick gets one more dig in at Cassandra as we get ready to leave, “On your head be the consequences Seeker.”  We all ignore him.  Changing shape, I trot next to Solas, time for the mountain path.


	6. Tech Support

When they said mountain path, it never occurred to me, they meant vertical path.  A vertical path covered in ice and snow.  My paws hate it.  And then we hit the real snow.  None of this dusting of a few inches.  Nope.  This is measured in feet.

 

Staring at it in dismay, I sit my furry arse down, wondering how I’m supposed to keep up with them.  Yeah, I could go bird, but Cassandra’s going to hate it, and I don’t want to get shot out of the sky.

 

“Ma lath,” Solas strokes my head.  “Come, I will carry you.”

 

Okay.  Better than me floundering in the snow, but I’m big enough I fill up his arms, he’ll need those to balance.  “ ** _Use your mouse shape_** ,” Love says, and I want to facepalm for being so stupid.  Moments later, I’m a tiny little rodent.  Solas bends down, lowering his hand to me.  He looks like a giant.  Hopping onto his hand, I’m ferried up to his right shoulder, where I hop off, paws automatically gripping the cloth.  And there I find small stiches placed perfectly for me to grip.  “ ** _Solas put those there for you.  They run along his shoulder to his neck, in case you want to shelter from the wind, or snow flurries_**.”

 

With my short legs no longer slowing them down in the snow, we forge forwards faster.  And as I’m on his shoulder, Solas has his arms, and hands, free to grip his staff and use it for support.  Herah does the same.  Everyone else has their hands out ready to catch themselves if they slip.

 

As we make our way up the path, and across a few ridges, it reminds me of the moment in Lord of the Rings where they do the same.  We even have vashoth who tower over us making us appear smaller, a dwarf, and a few elves.  Unbidden the tune ‘May It Be’ from the films floats in my head, and it isn’t until Solas starts humming along with me, I realise I was humming it in the first place.  When he starts singing the words I nearly fall off his shoulder in shock.

 

If his speaking voice is beautiful, it’s got nothing on his singing voice.  Chills run up and down my body.  On Earth, he could charge people a fortune to listen to him sing, it’s enthralling, and charged with that special something.  I want to record this, curl up in my room, headphones on, and put it on repeat.  He swaps the Tolkien elvish in it for Dragon Age elvish.  Almost spellbound I close my eyes and join in.  Howard Shore’s score for these three films is phenomenal, add in songs like this written by Enya, and the music is some of the best ever.  It set a high benchmark.

 

As the last note fades away, I’m startled back into reality by Varric, “Chuckles, you sing too?  And I’ve never heard that song before.”  Amber eyes stare up at us, far too shrewdly for my liking.

 

“Indeed, Master Tethras,” Solas says calmly.  “My wife and I both enjoy music, dancing, and singing.  Though the song is one my wife taught me.  I find I have little creativity for such things.  I am more accomplished with creating images through drawing, and painting.”  Wow, Solas is being a chatty little wolf.  Guess Love was right, he really is doing things differently.

 

“Huh,” The dwarf walks along side us.  “Well, you already know I’m a writer.”  They talk about various projects they’ve worked on, influences, and inspirations.  Varric’s questions seem to be innocuous, but the hair on the back of my neck lifts up, he’s fishing.  Solas answers him easily, and if I didn’t know he’s the Dread Wolf, and currently hiding part of his identity, I’d think he was being open and honest.  Glancing behind us, I can see Charter’s moved closer, like she’s listening to them.

 

“ ** _She is.  She is memorising the conversation to relay to Leliana_** ,” Love tells me.  I creep along Solas’ shoulder and over the collars of his clothes, to settle against the skin of his neck, just under his ear.  There are handy little paw holds on the inside of the collar for me.

 

“Solas,” I whisper softly.  “Charter’s listening to you.”  I’m not sure why I’m warning the guy.  “Love says she’s going to relay your words to Leliana.”

 

“ ** _He has heard you_** ,” Love says.  “ ** _He was already being careful with what information he gave to the storyteller; he will be more careful now_**.”  Awesome, though I’m confused as to why I’m helping him.  He’s the guy whose Orb blew the damn Conclave up.  “ ** _We should discuss eyes_** ,” I’m really not expecting that subject change.  “ ** _Soon you will all be travelling through the mines in the mountains.  Those with elven, and dwarven eyes, will have advantages.  Those with human, and vashoth eyes, will have disadvantages.  This would be a good moment for you to prove your ability to support the group_**.”

 

Baffled where it’s going to go with this.  I stay where I am and let it teach me about eyes.  Or more accurately, the difference between the four races’ eyes.  I wish I’d had Love as a teacher in school, I swear this Spirit could teach anything to anyone.  Again it shows me images in my head to help me understand.  And then it expands the lesson, to how I could craft a spell similar to night vision goggles for the party.  Which is why I needed to know the slight variations between the races, to adjust for their light sensitivity.

 

Turns out none of the races can see in infrared or ultraviolet, so I learn how to build a spell capable of turning those frequencies of light into visible light.  Then Love runs rampant through all my expectations.  Turns out magic is far more versatile than I thought it was.  It can use sound waves, converting them into visible light, giving a form of echolocation.  And magical energies, like those given off by demons, can also be converted.  Meaning anyone ‘wearing’ these ‘goggles’ would be able to see in perfect darkness.  We’re not limited by carrying normal torches.  If I can get proficient enough in this magic, we might not need veilfire to illuminate some of the hidden things.

 

Holy fuck, this is a useful spell.

 

Reaching the ladders up to the mine, all I have to do is hang onto Solas, he does all the climbing.  His conversation with Varric also stops, as the normal in game conversation kicks in.  Carrying us all to the entrance of the mines.  I know from the game there are demons in there, somewhere in the dark, and I have no idea how to warn anyone of them.

 

“ ** _Now would be a good time to cast the vision spell for you and Solas_** ,” Love cuts into my musing.  “ ** _I counsel against warning them, they would not understand, and would turn on you_**.”  It’s probably right.  Following its instructions, I cast the spell for me and Solas.  Suddenly I can see into the mine as if it was well lit.  And I have a very clear view of the demons in there, they illuminate beautifully against the background.

 

“Demons ahead,” Solas gets to warn the group.  He’d be able to see them as clearly as I can.  I think this just became my favourite utility spell.  It might be my only utility spell, at the moment, but this is so useful.

 

“Where?” Cassandra stands next to us squinting into the mine.  “I cannot see them.”

 

Charter moves closer, “There’s something moving Lady Cassandra, but I can’t make it out.”  She’s squinting too.

 

Kaaras is right behind her, “What’s that on your eyes?”  He points to Solas.

 

“My wife’s invention.  A way of seeing in the dark.”  Solas looks round at him, giving me a perfect look at the spell’s effects.  There are black ‘goggles’ in a bubble over his eyes.  “The spell sits over the eyes, and gathers many types of light, converting it for our eyes to see.”

 

“Wouldn’t that change the eye itself?”  Herah’s come nearer to see the spell.

 

“No,” Solas tells her.  “It sits over the eyes only.  Nothing of the eyes changes.  If needed, you can pull the spell off before the spell ends, with no negative effects.”

 

“Huh,” Kaaras leans into Solas’ face.  “Does it only work for elves?”  He waves his hand in front of Solas’s face.

 

Mouth twitching, Solas shakes his head, “No, Eevee has learnt to adapt it for all peoples.  Would you like her to cast it for you too?”

 

“Yes,” Kaaras doesn’t even hesitate.  Caught off guard it takes me a moment to adjust the spell for his eyes, then cast it.  Black forms in the corners of his eyes, and spreads out enclosing them in the ‘goggles’.  Craning his neck around, the warrior says, “Fuck, this is amazing.  I can see the demons like they’re standing in sunshine, not in a dark mine.”

 

It kickstarts both Herah, and Varric, to ask for their own versions.  And then Kaaras draws his huge sword, screams a battle cry, and charges into the mine.  God damn all tanks.  A little warning would be nice.  I have to hop over Solas’ collar to get stable enough to ‘chuck’ a barrier over the horned idiot.

 

He crashes straight into a demon, before the rest of us are battle ready.  Varric’s quickly peppering the other demons with bolts, Herah is casting some sort of spell, and Solas launches a fireball at a collection of demons, who are handily grouped up, but far enough away from Kaaras so as to not flambé him.

 

Cassandra, and the two other archers, also enter the fray, but are hampered by their limited vision.  In record time the demons are dead.  And the last three members of our group reluctantly agree to the seeing spell. After lots more reassurance from Solas that the spell isn’t permeant, and made no changes to their eyes.  Kaaras was happy to demonstrate taking the goggles off a few times for them.

 

Being able to see this well, means we hurry through the mine, and we have the advantage on groups of demons.  We can see them from a distance, they’re limited to their level of vision, however that works.  Clinging to Solas’ shoulder, I keep the barrier up on the fighters, and from up here I don’t get in Solas’ way of using his staff.

 

We’re soon stepping out into the sunshine, on the other side of the mine, and tripping over dead bodies.  Sighing Varric says, “Guess we found the soldiers.”  No longer needing the seeing spell, I stop giving mana to it, and it fades away.  Strange.  In the game mages needed to wait for mana to recharge.  I’ve not felt mine drain.  I’ve cast lots of barriers, held a spell for eight people, all without any obvious effect on my mana.  Just how much mana do I have?

 

Cassandra is moving between the bodies, closing their eyes, “That cannot be all of them.”  She seems to be counting under her breath, like she’s trying to work out how many are missing.  They could still be alive.

 

Varric echoes my thoughts, “So the others could be holed up ahead?”

 

“Perhaps we will find them if we follow the path,” Solas says.  Pointing he adds, “Look it goes in that direction.  Charter,” He turns to the scouts.  “Do you, or Beech, know how to track?  Can you perhaps confirm my theory?”

 

“I can track,” Beech says.  Moving to the path, she kneels down, studying the ground intently.  “Footsteps.  The boot treads are similar to our own.  The scouts went down the path.”  She points in the same direction Solas indicated.

 

“ ** _Stay calm_** ,” Love says, and then Solas changes into a wolf.  I’m left clinging to his fur, on the nape of his neck.  My four little paws grip his fur easily.  When he walks forward, to where Beech is, I get a ‘wolf’ ride from him.  It’s not too uncomfortable.  A little bumpy, wolves aren’t built for mouse riders.

 

Sniffing at the ground, he looks up and over to the main party, “I have their scent now.  There is blood.  We should hurry.”  Then he trots off down the path, clearly expecting them to follow.

 

Craning my neck round, I get to see them all exchange glances, before jogging after us.  He really isn’t being the mild mannered Fade nerd.  This is much more ‘Dread Wolf Commander of Armies’ level of stuff going on.

 

Beech glides along next to us.  If I couldn’t see her, I wouldn’t know she was there, she’s absolutely silent.  Unlike the thundering herd behind us.  Hard to be silent in metal armour, so I’ll give Cassandra, and Kaaras, the benefit of the doubt.  Plus I know I’d flounder along finding all the twigs to step on.

 

Since we’re in the front, we get to spot the rift first, and the people pinned down by it.  “A rift ahead!”  Solas calls out.  I think he’s being Captain Obvious on purpose.  Throwing his head back, he howls, it’s so loud my ears ring, even as the vibrations of the howl travels through his body into mine.  I’m forced to death grip his fur as he lunges forward.  With Love’s prompting I put a barrier over us, in time for him to barrel into a terror demon standing over a downed scout.

 

One second I’m on the back of a wolf, the next, I’m on Solas’ elven shoulder, as he slams the end of his staff into the demon’s throat.  A spray of ichor patters against my barrier, and the stuff slides down the outside of the barrier.  Stomach turning slightly, I have to crouch down, and do my best limpet impression, as Solas almost dances through the other demons, leaving a path of injured demons on his wake.  Love gives me advice on how to grip, and when Solas is going to spin, or stop, or in one case combat roll on his left shoulder.  Thank god I’m on his right shoulder.

 

Two voices yell battle cries, signalling Cassandra and Kaaras joining the fray.  Casting another barrier over us all, I’m stuck in the thick of it, and get a ring side seat of a bolt whistling past my whiskery nose.  Absolute mayhem ensues.  I have to rely on Love to tell me when to cast a barrier and where.

 

Suddenly I’m plucked off of Solas’ shoulder, to find myself sitting in the middle of his palm, being thrust up at the rift.  My turn then.  Waving my left front paw at the rift, I work with Love to seal it.  It bucks against our combined wills, being this close to the Breach makes it a lot stronger.

 

Once it’s closed, I flop onto my back, panting, because that was hard.  Solas gazes down at me, “You are becoming quite proficient at sealing them Beloved.”  I wave my other front paw trying to convey my lack of belief.  If this one played us up this much, the big one is not going to be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May It Be was composed by Enya and Roma Ryan for the Lord of the Rings film. Eevee is only vaguely aware of the true details, and as she no longer has access to the internet, some of her information will not be entirely factual as it will be be limited by her memory.


	7. Boss Battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normally I'm going to try to post on Wednesday, but this is ready now, so two days early. Also please don't expect this length of chapter often, it is tiring to write so much.  
> And a huge giant pile of thanks, and hugs, for the wonderful comments, and all the kudos you've been so kind to send to me.

“Lady Cassandra!”  A woman yells.  I don’t recognise her voice so I’m guessing she must be part of the scouts we rescued.

 

“Lieutenant!  You’re alive!”  Cassandra calls back.  Clearly she knows the woman.  And yay we saved the scouts.  Well done us.  Not that I did much, just clung to Solas.

 

Picking myself up, by rolling over onto my stomach, I trundle over to the edge of Solas’ hand. Using his thumb as a rest, I lean my front paws on it, so I can peer over at the scouts.  Most of them are gathered around Cassandra.  Two of them are off to one side.  Perhaps the fact their faces are clearly marked by vallaslin means they’re excluded?  In the games most people didn’t like, or trust, the Dalish.

 

“Thank the Maker you finally arrived Lady Cassandra.  I don’t think we could have held out much longer,” A woman in the main huddle says.  People around her nod in agreement.

 

“Thank Solas, Lieutenant.  He insisted we come this way to escort his wife to the Temple,” Cassandra motions to Solas.

 

I’m surprised when he walks over to them, “I could not in good conscience pass them by, if there was any chance they could still be alive, we had to try, “Solas says.  Standing next to Cassandra, with me held up on his hand, he adds, “Cassandra, we are not far from the Temple.  While I can see the scouts are tired, I believe it would be best they accompany us.  The path behind us is clear, for the moment, but demons will retake the areas soon.  And we cannot leave them here, as a new rift could potentially form, trapping them again.  I will not stand idly by as good men, and women, are needlessly lost.  We leave no one behind.”  I’m pretty sure in the game he was all ‘only the Breach matters’.

 

Not waiting for Cassandra’s answer, he turns to the woman who might be head scout, “My wife is an excellent healer.  Eevee may not be able to cure exhaustion, but demon venom, and injuries, can be easily lessened, or cured outright.”

 

“She’s a damn miracle worker,” Herah says behind us.  “Healed my broken arm in less than a minute.  If I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

 

None of the scouts take me up on Solas’ offer.  So we carry on down the path to the Temple.  Solas carefully depositing me on his right shoulder as we travel.  We all climb the ladders with ease.  The scouts take longer, as some of them are injured.  Walking next to Solas, on his right side, and therefore next to me too, Cassandra does the in game dialogue.

 

In person this area is horrendous.  Smells, sounds, lighting, all lend themselves to making me wish I wasn’t here, and I want to wake up, right now.  There really are grotesque, twisted corpses caught, and held, in their final agonised poses.  It’s not right they’re left like this.  With all the demon fighting going on there won’t be anybody free to lay them to rest.

 

To have anyone simply abandoned, not having final rites, rubs me the wrong way.  My cousin died, well, committed suicide, and his body was simply ignored by his bitch mother, for days.  Even though they’re dead, and all that’s left behind is meat, I can’t leave them like this.  They deserve something.  I might not be able to do anything for those lost lower down the mountain, but here I can do something.

 

Love gives me a few different ideas; I pick the one I think is most appropriate for Thedas, and the people who would have been attending the Temple of Sacred Ashes.  Standing on my back paws, so they can grip the stitches on Solas’ shoulder, I put my front paws together, close my eyes and start with, “Maker take you into his arms.”  With Love handling the mental autocue for me to read from, I recite a few verses of the Chant.  They must be the well known ones, as around me, other voices join in, as we walk through this field of the dead.

 

Reaching the end of my ‘prayer’, I open my eyes to find we’ve also reached the end of this ‘field’.  Thank god.  I hope I don’t have to come back here for a long time.  And I hope by then the Inquisition can give them a respectful funeral.  Those poor people have been through enough.

 

Cassandra is still by us, and her eyes are suspiciously damp, I get a curt nod from her, with a soft, “Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome,” I nod back.  So far we’ve bonded over the stupidity of men, and now group prayer.  I vaguely wonder if this means I’m going up in her approval ratings.

 

Rounding a broken stone wall, we step out onto the edge of the crater.  In game this was terrible.  Reality is worse.  Wait, does this mean I think this is real?  I gasp in mingled horror of the scene, and the realisation I might be in Thedas.

 

“Yes, vhenan,” Solas says, gazing out on the devastation.  “A Conclave striving for peace, in one of the most scared spots in all of Thedas, and this is all that remains.”  His voice is throbbing with emotion and pain.  I wonder how he must feel knowing this is all because his Orb was unlocked by a monster.

 

Varric mutters, “The Breach is a long way up.”  Seriously, why all the Captain Obvious moments?

 

We all move closer to the edge of the crater.  Many of the scouts sink to the ground with a groan.  I know fear of magic is at phobic levels, but they really should have someone look at their wounds.

 

Behind us a large group of people jog around the same corner we just passed.  Leliana in the lead, “You’re here.  Thank the Maker.”  Following her are various people in scout armour, and some hulking brutes in metal plate, including helmets so I can’t see their faces.  Though I can see all the demon goop splattered over their armour.

 

In the middle of the fighters, is a man in a lion mask, and a cloak with a ruffled fur collar.  He strides up beside Leliana, voice echoing out of his mask, “I hope your journey was less eventful Cassandra.”  Head swinging around, he then asks, “Where is the Witness?  Please don’t say we came all this way for nothing.”

 

Stepping forward, Solas walks towards the man, “Calm yourself Commander.  My wife is as well as she can be, under the circumstances.  She is resting on my shoulder.”

 

Lion mask dude swivels to stare straight at me.  “The mouse is your wife?”  His tone is the epitome of incredulous.  If this guy has eyebrows they have to be in his hairline right now.  I’m really not happy Solas is now standing with this guy and Leliana.  There’s something wrong about him.  The world feels strange around him.

 

Joining our huddle, Cassandra says, “Yes.  Solas told the truth, his wife is a shapeshifter.  Though all her forms seem small and helpless.”  Whoa, harsh.  I was a honey badger, they kick arse.

 

“Hmm,” Lion mask dude says, “I hope they’re right about you.  We’ve lost a lot of people getting you here.”  I don’t think he likes me.  Leaning forwards, he moves his head closer to me, the world narrows, growing dull, and I panic.

 

Up until now, I’ve not really reacted to the men around me like I’m used to.  I’ve been touching Solas.  Leaning into Solas.  Held in Solas’ arms.  Riding comfortably on Solas’ shoulder.  I even licked the guy.  Sniffed him like he was everything.  Now familiar terror grips me, flattening my body onto Solas’ shoulder, I scuttle along his shoulder to his collar, then up, over the cloth, to his neck, and around the back.  Putting my paws over my eyes, I try and even out my breathing.

 

Love’s voice fills my head, helping me stave off a potential panic attack.  “ ** _Solas has moved back from the group, to give you room.  You are safe.  You are well.  No man is going to touch you.  Solas will protect you_**.”  Its voice is soothing and cuts through my fear.

 

Trembling against Solas’ neck, I tune back into their conversation, a bit at a time.  Enough to find out they are going to move down into the crater, and work out what to do next.  It’s their job to kill the demons, keep me alive, and then it’s my job to find a way to seal the rift, for good.  They’re hoping it will also seal the Breach.

 

“Can she do it?”  The lion masked man asks.  He really doesn’t seem to like me.

 

“Yes,” Solas says.  “Eevee is more than capable.  I have full faith in my wife.  She will not let any of us down.”  I wish I had Solas’ faith in me.  I’m no one’s hero.

 

“ ** _Then perhaps it is not a hero we need_** ,” A new female voice says.  She has a French like accent, similar to Leliana’s.

 

“ ** _Faith_** ,” Love says.  “ ** _You should not be here.  It is not safe for any of us to be this close to the Breach_**.”  It’s not?  Then how come Love is here?  Is it in danger being here?  “ ** _Calm.  I am well.  I am protected through you_**.”

 

“ ** _Peace my friend_** ,” Faith says, which is so weird, I can hear her/it in my head, yet I can’t see her/it.  There’s a faint echo to its voice.  When Love speaks, its voice goes straight into my mind, this is different.  “ ** _I have been here since the Breach was created.  We have been waiting for you.  The Wolf’s plan places all our lives in Eevee’s hands_**.”  It does?  We’re so screwed.

 

“ ** _Quite the opposite_** ,” This voice is soft, feminine, with Welsh tones, similar to Solas’.

 

“ ** _Wisdom_** ,” Love says, greeting it, sounding surprised.  “ ** _This is hardly a wise place to be_**.”

 

“ ** _Perhaps.  Though Hope persuaded a great number of us to come.  We wanted to meet the woman who can persuade Pride to walk a different path_**.”  I have no idea what she/it is talking about.  Is this about the upcoming boss battle?  Does this mean we won’t have to kill the Pride demon?  “ ** _Unfortunately_** **_it cannot be spared child_**.”  Damn, because I’ve always wondered if it used to be a spirit and could potentially be saved.  “ ** _Your kindness does you credit.  This Pride you will battle has always been Pride.  It was called to guard this place, by the overwhelming pride of he who created the Breach_**.”

 

“This is your chance to end this,” Cassandra is standing by Solas, I think she’s talking to me.  “Are you ready?”  Nope.  Peeking over Solas’ collar I nod to her anyway, not trusting my voice right now.  “Good.  Let’s find a way down.  And be careful.”

 

This is apparently the signal everyone was waiting for.  Solas strides forward, people falling into position behind him.  When the creepy voice booms out, everyone follows the game script.  Reaching the red lyrium freaks out Varric, and lion mask man.  They both want it destroyed, and when Varric calls it evil, lion mask backs him up.

 

Seriously it’s been too long since I played any of the Dragon Age games.  I’m forgetting things.  Varric hates red lyrium because of his brother, and Kirkwall, but I’m buggered if I can remember why.

 

Further round the crater, we get more creepy voice, then a voice, eerily similar to Faith’s, calls for help.  Worried for the spirit, I’m reassure when it says, “ ** _Peace child.  I am well.  This is simply a memory being replayed_**.”

 

And then Cassandra says, “That is Divine Justina’s voice.”  Oh shit.  This is probably going to complicate things.

 

“ ** _I have Faith things will turn out as they should_** ,” Faith says.  I’m unsure if it’s making a pun or simply being itself.

 

Stairs down bring us closer to our destination.  There’s a small drop off, one Solas jumps down with ease, and we’re here.  The others follow him down, with varying degrees of success.  The vashoth step down like it’s nothing.  The elves, and humans, copy Solas.  The three dwarves all leap, and combat roll back to their feet.  I have no idea how Varric managed it with Bianca on his back, but he did.

 

Cautiously approaching the smaller rift in the middle of the crater, Solas slows, which means I slow.  Sparking on my left paw catches my attention, “Someone help me!”  Faith calls out, but not in my head.

 

“What’s going on here?”  My voice says.  Oh, it’s coming from the rift.  And my paw’s now glowing a steady green.  It must be reacting to the rift.  Interesting.  I wonder if we’ll get another memory replayed, or if this is it?  No, wait, I’m sure there was a cut scene, or something, at this point in the game.

 

“That was your voice,” Cassandra says looking stunned.  “Most Holy called out to you. But.”  She doesn’t get to finish as the rift crackles and flexes.

 

An image forms in the air.  A woman in white robes, with red bits, and a frankly stupid hat, is bound in crawling red ropes of magic.  Towering over her is a faceless red eyed shadow.  Another woman staggers into the image.  She’s human, a curtain of long blonde hair so pale it’s almost white.  She’s dressed in simple white robes.  Slowly she shuffles into view.  One hand clutching her stomach, the other appears to be on a wall, or door, helping her stand up.  When she lifts her head up, I gasp.  Her face is badly bruised, one eye swollen shut.  But what catches my attention is the sun symbol on her forehead, she’s Tranquil.  Even on her pale skin, marred with multi-coloured bruising, the brand stands out clearly.  Opening her mouth, she says, “What’s going on here?”  And she uses my voice.

 

WTF?

 

Staring in shock at the image I internally freak out.  I’m tranquil?  I’m TRANQUIL!  “ ** _No_** ,” Love says, breaking into my mental spiral.  “ ** _Solas crafted this body for you.  Evelyn died at Ostwick Circle.  She was made Tranquil before her murder.  Solas had to add the scarring as it was public record.  You are not Tranquil.  And it will not work on you.  You are ‘blended’ you cannot be separated from the Fade_**.”

 

In front of me, the bound woman yells, “Run while you can!”  Yeah, I haven’t been able to run since I was thirteen, and the ‘me’ in this image can’t run either.  “Warn them!”

 

Shadow man says, “We have an intruder.”  He has a seriously creepy voice.  Nothing living could speak like that.  “Kill the Tranquil, now!”  I don’t think he likes me.  Fine by me, feeling is mutual.  Apparently, the slideshow is over, as the image kind of explodes, leaving us in the crater, more confused than before, with light speckles in our vision.  I don’t remember any of it.

 

Shaken by what I saw, I’m not prepared for Cassandra to storm over to us, “You were there!  Who attacked?  And the Divine is she,” She breaks off swallowing.  “Was this vision true?  What are we seeing?”  And she’s back to being a ball of rage.

 

“I don’t remember!”  And I don’t.  Was that even me moving the body?  Why were there so many bruises?  I looked like a reject from a brutal war film.

 

“Echoes of what happened here.”  Solas is staring up at the rift, and he handily answers Cassandra, drawing her wrath from me.  “The Fade bleeds into this place.  This rift is not sealed, but it is closed.  Albeit temporarily.  I believe that with the mark, the rift can be opened, and then sealed properly and safely.”  He neatly throws a new target for Cassandra’s anger her way, “However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side.”

 

Falling for his diversionary tactic, thank god, Cassandra says, “That means demons.  Stand ready.”  Her, Leliana, and lion mask man all stand off to one side, and then promptly discuss solider placements, at the top of their voices.  Well Cassandra and the lion mask man do.  Leliana adds her ideas at a more reasonable volume.  Then Cassandra says, “Cullen.”  And I want to facepalm for being stupid.  The man in the mask is Cullen.  Urgh, I need to get my hands on the cheat notes for Inquisition.

 

Between the three of them they start directing the people around them.  Melee fighters are near the rift.  Archers and ranged, apart from Varric, scale various pieces of masonry to perch on higher ground.

 

“Vhenan,” Solas says softly.  I don’t budge from between his neck and collar.  I’m happy hiding here.  I don’t want to open the rift.  I don’t want to have to fight the giant pride demon, and all the smaller demons which will spawn too.  “Ma lath.  Please.”  Shaking my head, not that he can see, I hunker down and stubbornly grip his collar with my paws.  “We have precious little time before they are ready.  Please Beloved.”

 

Huffing a put-upon sigh, I crawl over his collar, to go and sit on his shoulder.  When he lifts up his hand, I oblige him by hopping onto it.  He brings me in front of his face.  And then closer, until his nose is almost next to me.  “My love, you must be careful.  I fear my attention will be forced to wander from you during the battle.  I suspect it will be safer from you to be a honey badger.”

 

“Okay,” Well that wasn’t so hard.

 

“Vhenan,” Oh god, his eyes are doing the thing.  “Ihr abelas.  I did not think how you would react to Commander Rutherford so early on in your association.  I should have realised his presence would be, as you call it, ‘triggering’ for you.  You have always been so sensitive to the flow of magic, able to sense Templars, and how they warp reality around them, making the world more solid.” I can?  I did?  Huh. Also, how does he know the word ‘triggering’, and what would be triggering for me?

 

“Solas,” Cassandra interrupts us.  “We are ready.”

 

Oh god.  I really want to wake up now.

 

Pulling back from me, he nods to her, “We understand Cassandra.  Thank you.  We will start in a moment.”  Then he’s moving back to me.  His nose so close to me, I end up huddled in front of it.  Going crossed eyed, he murmurs, “Please Vhenan.  You must stay safe.  There are plenty of fighters, or ‘DPS’ here to slay our foes.  And more ‘tanks’ like Cassandra, Cullen, and Kaaras for us to stay behind.  Your only job is disrupt the rift, to allow them to remove the demon blocking you from closing the rift.”

 

How does he know what DPS are?  Or tanks?  I don’t understand what’s going on.  When he moves back from me again, I panic, flinging myself at his nose, trying to cling to him.  I don’t want to do this.  I don’t want to be here.  “Ma vhenan!”  Now he’s cupping me in both hands, while I straddle his nose, I may even be squeaking a bit.

 

“Solas,” Cassandra clears her throat.  “Eevee.  We should start now.  While there is still time.”  Moving her weight awkwardly from foot to foot she doesn’t quite look at us.  I’m guessing we look fucking ridiculous right now.  A grown man, holding a mouse, and said mouse is attached to his nose.

 

Letting him go, I miserably sit in his palm, so he can lower me to the ground.  Hopping off, I let Love coach me through the shapeshifting magic into a honey badger.  Solas’ hand runs through my fur.  “I am here my love.  Stay close to me.  This will be over soon.”

 

Bollocks will it. 

 

I know what happens next.  There’s the whole run around the Hinterlands being attacked by bears, wolves, various assorted banditry, and numerous rifts.  Then being rejected by the Chantry.  Having to pick which group lives, and which one is enslaved with red lyrium.  Finally I get to lose a duel with a wannabe god, get buried under a mountain of snow, and get to walk through a snowstorm.  All so I can get a castle in the middle of fucking nowhere.  Oh and that was just kick starting the Inquisition into a higher gear.

 

Dejected, I amble closer to the rift, before planting my rear solidly on the ground, to wave my paw at the rift.  Opening it is far too easy.  A ripping, tearing sound judders through me, and then a horrific roaring fills the air.  Twisting my head around I can see the giant pride demon, and it’s bigger than I could have imagined.

 

“This way,” Solas urges me further away from the demon, even as the heavily armoured people run towards it.  Twangs of bows and crossbows, briefly, overwhelm all other sounds, before the clash of metal swallows it.  All followed by the creepiest laugh from the demon as all the attacks on it fail.

 

Cassandra shouts, “We must strip it of its defences!  Wear it down!”  Her words seem to inspire the fighters to close in on the demon again.

 

“Beloved,” Solas says, hand resting very familiarly on my flank.  “Disrupt the rift.”

 

Lifting my paw, I link to the rift, and then Love and I have a hell of a fight on our hands.  This rift doesn’t want to do what we say.  It bucks, twists, and kicks out, but finally obeys.  Letting my paw drop, I collapse to the ground, that was exhausting.  “How many times do I have to do that?” I ask quietly.

 

“At least three more,” Solas murmurs to me.  Thankfully no one else appears to be paying us any attention.  Everyone is throwing themselves at the big demon.  “Come, there is a boulder for you stay behind.  New demons have fallen from this rift.”  He’s right, there are two new demons scudding about the place.  Thankfully the archers spot them and shoot them quickly.

 

Being out of the main fight, gives me the opportunity to rest, throw a few barriers over the fighters, and generally not get in the way.  Solas stays crouched by me, he can’t use his staff properly here, but still manages to send some ice into the fight, slowing the demon down further.

 

When the rift reaches out to protect the pride demon again, I creep out of hiding, link to it, fight it, and somehow beat it into a temporary submission.  This time the demons spat out afterwards form near me.  Forcing Solas to come to my defence, as I duck under claws, which come perilously close to me.  “Chuckles, down!”  Is the only warning Varric gives, before a barrage of bolts slams into one of the lesser demons, killing it.

 

Leaving Solas free to freeze the other solid with his staff, before doing a spin kick ninja move, shattering it into a million pieces with his foot.  “My thanks Master Tethras.  Your timing was impeccable.”  He gets a jaunty hand wave, as said dwarf turns, and starts shooting the big demon again.

 

Urged back into hiding with Solas, I lean against the bend of his knee, where he’s kneeling next to me.  I have to disrupt the stupid rift two more times.  Thankfully the demons form away from me, leaving me alone to hide beside Solas.  I think my barriers have been helpful, as no one on the ground collapses, they keep on fighting.

 

Suddenly the big demon explodes and gets sucked up into the rift.  Holy fuck, I think they did it.  The demon is dead.  So of course this is the point Cassandra yells out, “Now!  Seal the rift!”

 

“Come Vhenan,” Solas still has a hand on my furry little bottom.  “Transform back to your human form.  Then seal the rift.”  He must see something on my badger face, as he adds, “When last you did this, without the mages to give you power, you fell unconscious for three days.  Please, it will be easier to care for you if you are human shaped.”  Fine, if he puts it that way.  Changing, I have to lean on him to get to my feet.

 

With his arm wrapped around me, I let him lead me over to the rift.  We weren’t that far, so I don’t have to shuffle slowly for long.  Reaching the right point, he moves to stand behind me, arms sliding around me, helping me stay upright, “I truly do believe in you my love.  You can do this.”

 

Doesn’t mean I want to.

 

I think Cassandra yells something else, but I’m too busy connecting to the rift.  With the big pride demon gone, some of the resistance is gone too.  The rest is the same.  Tired from my earlier fights with it, I can feel it slip from my ‘hands’ a few times.  Love backs me up helping me struggle on.  Between us, we corral the rift, and then pummel the shit out of it, to make it obey us.  Stray threads lead from it skyward.  I think this could be the link to the Breach?

 

With everything in place, I make it bend to my will, to close, and let a portion of my command follow the threads upwards.  All of the earlier, smaller, rifts gave off a soft waft of power when they closed.  This behemoth gets the last laugh, as a tidal wave of power surges towards me, slamming me backwards into darkness.  Still so focused on closing the stupid thing, my last thought is, “CLOSE!”

 

**oOo**

 

As before, his Heart collapses, exhausted by her exertions in sealing the rift.  He can feel the echo of power rise to the Breach, bigger than he remembers, stabilizing it, bringing peace to the raw roiling chaos of the Fade.

 

Easily catching her body, he cradles her close, and lowers them both to the ground gently.  Tenderly he caresses her face with a finger.  She appears so physically different in this human body he crafted for her.  Yet even now he can sense her indominable spirit residing within.  So familiar.  So beloved.

 

How blind he was back when they first met.  How could he have missed how special she is?  How could he have been so stupid as to let her go?  He will never make those mistakes again.

 

Pressing his lips to her forehead, he indulges in the glorious scent of her hair, in the fact she is here, alive, and in his arms, where she belongs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well done, zai_make_it_awesome on guessing the Tranquil twist. :)


	8. Home Sweet Fade

Stretching out, I roll over on my side, bunching the duvet up just right.  Soft purrs from near my head make me smile sleepily.  Purrs are soon joined by a warm furry body sneaking under the covers to rest against my belly.  Content, I let myself drift off in a light doze.

 

These moments never last, so I wallow for as long as my body is going to let me.  It won’t be long before I’m forced up, and out of bed, to take the first round of medication.

 

I had the freakiest dream last night.  The details were amazing.  I could smell, touch, and feel so much.  I probably had too much cheese before going to bed.  Not that I can eat a lot of cheese.

 

A crackle from my bedroom speakers makes me twitch.  I don’t remember leaving them on.  When the strains of ‘May It Be’ starts playing, I pull the covers off my head to stare at them in shock.

 

“That was the same song in my dream,” I mutter wondering what the hell is going on.  Did I dream the song because it was playing in the background?

 

A familiar creak on the stairs to my bedroom sends shivers of dread up my spine.  No one has a key to my flat.  Baron and I should be all alone.  Just the way we like it.  When I see Solas’ head appear, soon followed by the rest of him, my jaw drops open.

 

“Vhenan,” He greets me softly.  “I heard the music, and assumed you had regained consciousness.”  Oh god.  Then I realise what he’s wearing.  He’s in men’s ‘loungewear’, meaning extra soft pyjamas.  For years I struggled to find nightwear I liked.  All the women’s PJs were either made of flannel, long sleeved, long legged, and ugly.  Or the nice ones had shorts, so short they got stuck in places they shouldn’t be if I rolled over, with tops so tiny, if I breathed wrong I fell out of them, and I’m flatter chested than a pancake.  I bought the men’s version of shorts and short sleeve top on a whim.  I’ve never looked back.  The material was softer, washed better, and fit with room to spare.  In winter the long sleeve, long legged ones were just as warm, just as snuggly, and better than the rubbish I’d tried in the women’s.

 

Solas isn’t in any old PJs, he’s in Batman PJs.  The shorts are just above his knee, in black.  With a short sleeve t-shirt in grey, the yellow and bat logo boldly in the middle, the word “I’M” right above it.  I’ve always wanted them.

 

Sitting on the bed, he lays down next to me, stretching out facing me.  My double bed is big enough there’s a gap between us.  Silence crashes down on us as the music reaches the end.  “Play more music for me Vhenan.  You left me only a few songs to listen to.  Yet hinted your world had thousands, if not millions, of musical pieces for people to enjoy.”

 

“I did?” Slips out before I can stop it.

 

“Yes.  Please, I would hear more.  You said this ‘artist’ was very prolific, and you found her music helpful for meditation.”  This close I can see those freckles of his again.

 

Over the speakers another Enya song starts to play.  Grey eyes with hints of blue slide closed, a sigh leaves his lips, his hands tighten on my duvet.  Soothing music washes over me as I study his face.  He’s similar to the game, with added realness; I can see every pore on his skin, every hair of his eyelashes, his dimple on his chin, the fullness of his lips.  His scar over his eyebrow is the only obvious ‘flaw’.

 

When the song finishes, his eyes open slowly, even as his lips widen into a smile, transforming him from beautiful into breath-taking.  My eyes seem to get caught in his gaze.  Neither of us says a word.  It should be awkward.  It feels comfortable, like we’re in our own private bubble.  Safe.  Like nothing bad could ever happen here.  And his eyes tug at me, drawing me in; briefly I wonder if I could drown in them.

 

A yawn catches me by surprise.  His soft chuckle wraps around me, “Oh my Heart.  You are still recovering from your endeavours.  Let your mind rest.  Let go.  Sink into deep and dreamless slumber.  I will be here when you stir again.”

 

I would argue that I need to get up.  I need my medication, but another yawn derails me, even as my limbs grow heavy, and I tumble into sleep.

 

**oOo**

 

Blinking awake, I stare at my bedroom ceiling.  I watch as all the paper wisteria I’d paid to have strung up there sway in a non existent wind.  My idea had been to have various ‘paper/silk flowers’ with multi-coloured LED lights in them, to act as my night light.  I’m afraid of the dark.  This idea was perfect.

 

For years I’ve jerked awake from nightmares to find my ‘rainbow’ lit up over me.  I’ve found them to be very calming, relaxing, and helpful in letting me go back to dreamless sleep.

 

A bee crawls out of one of the flowers and buzzes over to another.

 

How did a bee get in here?

 

My flowers are all lit up, but the twinkle is different, instead of the cyclic LED pattern, this is a shimmering wave of light arcing down each ‘stem’ of the ‘flowers’.

 

“They are beautiful,” Solas says.  I jump turning my head to find him laying on his back beside me.  I’m tucked under the covers.  He’s on top of the covers, still in the Batman PJs.  “Such wonders you create ma lath.  From a simple fear of darkness, you bring forth flowers, to shine such incredible light.”  He turns his head to look at me.  “As ever, you continue to amaze and humble me.”

 

I stole the idea from a home decorating show on TV.

 

Staring back up at my ‘flowers’, I can see more bees industriously working on the ‘blossoms’.  Even as brightly coloured butterflies flutter around them.  This isn’t right.  This isn’t real.  “I’m dreaming.”  I’ve never had a dream like this one before.

 

“Yes,” Solas says.  “Your ability to settle into the Fade, and shape it, has always been instinctive.”

 

Oh god, I’m in the Fade?

 

With Solas?  The Dread Wolf himself?  Dreamer from lost Arlathan, with untold ages to perfect his ability to shape the Fade?  And he’s in my dream?

 

A flicker of colour catches my attention, drawing my eyes to the jewel coloured hummingbirds.  They’re hovering, and weaving between the flowers.  I’ve never seen them in real life.  Also in reality they avoid bees, so they shouldn’t be up there along side them.

 

“Vhenan,” Solas says.  “I did not think to see the honey drinking jewel birds again.  Did you have such birds on Earth?”  How does he know I’m from Earth?

 

“Um, yes,” I hesitantly answer him.  “Hummingbirds are normally only found in warm, or tropical areas.”  Is this real?  Or am I dreaming that I’m dreaming?  And if this is real, what the fuck is going on?

 

“Hummingbirds?  This is your name for them?”  He rolls over to look at me.  “I assume they are named for the humming of their wings?”  I nod, mutely.  “And they are common on Earth?”  Another nod.  “Fascinating.  Only one species of them survives here on this world.  Far from this continent, away from all peoples.”

 

“Really?”  Shocked I end up rolling over to face him too.  “What happened to them?”  What did the humans do this time?

 

“Before the rise of the Evanuris, there were others, they tried to capture the jewels, to tame them.  When the birds’ delicate body balances proved impossible to keep in captivity, they were hunted down, and destroyed in a fit of pique,” Solas holds a hand upwards, one of the hummingbirds descends to settle on his finger.  “When I was a child, after the life-giving spring rains, our village baked in the summer heat, and the birds would return to flock to swathes of flowers in the trees.  Living jewels reflected the sun, wings flashing in the light, their ‘hum’ loud in the air, often flitting so fast you could not see them pass you.  I have missed them more than I realised.”

 

I really do need to find out how he knows me.  I’m also really aware I don’t handle conflict very well.  I don’t know how to ask him what I want to know.  Other than Leliana, he’s the most dangerous person in the Inquisition.  The hummingbird launches itself back up among the blossoms.  Leaving Solas free to put his hand down, on mine, so he can hold my hand, and gently squeeze my fingers.

 

Putting off any confrontation, I gaze at the ceiling, letting the lights in the flowers, and the pollinating animals distract me.  One moment I’m watching them, the next I’m falling asleep.

 

**oOo**

 

Rousing a tiny amount, I’m so warm, so safe, so tucked up in someone’s arms.  Eyes opening in alarm, I tense, as the person behind me moves, then settles again.  Breath exhaling against my neck.

 

“ ** _Calm.  You are well.  You are safe_** ,” Love says.  “ ** _You are in a cabin in Haven.  Solas is curled around you_**.”  Simply knowing it’s him helps me relax.  “ ** _You have woken up too far.  Return to the Fade.  He is waiting for you_**.”

 

Ignoring its advice, I take a few moments to gaze around the cabin.  It’s the cabin from the game, the one the Herald wakes up in.  Instead of bright sunshine, there are shadows, though a steady pool of cool light is over the top of me, and where I’m sleeping.  Tilting my head, I can see Solas’ staff is leaning against the bedpost, and the gadget at the top is shedding the light.  “ ** _Solas is aware of your intense dislike of sleeping in the dark.  He wanted you to have a ‘nightlight’_**.”

 

How does he know these things about me?  “ ** _You told him_** ,” Is its only answer, and tells me absolutely nothing.  “ ** _It is the truth_** ,” I don’t doubt it for the second.  I’m also not a spirit, I think differently to them.  “ ** _This is also true.  Perhaps if you returned to Solas he would be able to tell you himself_**.”  Uh-huh.  Sure he will.  Because I’m so damn chicken, I have no idea how to ask him.

 

Lying on my left side, I’m free to slip from the bed, if I wanted to.  Solas is the one trapped against the wall.  His body is pressed up against mine, spooning me, his arm slung over my waist, and his nose buried in my nape.  Resting quietly, I try and process the sensation of being held.

 

His arm tightens momentarily, and a sleepy, “Vhenan?”  Lets me know he’s awake too.  Voice rough with sleep he queries, “Are you well?  Are you in need of anything?”

 

“I’m good,” I think I’m good.  I’m not sure.  “Are we really in Haven?”  Am I really in Thedas?

 

“We are.  Cassandra has been most accommodating, and has given us the use of this cabin,” I can feel the vibrations of his words through his chest.  “It is the second night since you fell unconscious trying to close the Breach.  You have been stirring in the Fade since this morning.  I did not think to find you there until much later.  You have absorbed my magic into your core so smoothly and grow stronger daily.”

 

I’ve no idea what he means by that.

 

“Come ma lath.  Close your eyes.  Slip gently into the Fade.  Dawn will slide over the horizon soon, chasing away the night shadows.”  Solas wiggles behind me, moving impossibly closer, then begins to hum.  I’m yawning, and edging closer to sleep, when I realise he’s humming the tune to ‘Dream A Little Dream Of Me’.

 

**oOo**

 

Opening my eyes, I find myself in my living room.  It’s exactly as I remember it.  Except Solas is leaning against a wall, watching me.  He’s not wearing PJs anymore, he’s back in jeans and t-shirt.  I really did want that t-shirt.

 

Pushing off the wall, he saunters towards me, “Thank you for your patience ma lath.  Now, I suspect you have questions.”


	9. Rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings apply to this chapter. Some readers may find it touching on difficult subjects. Please take care of yourselves.

Ushered onto my own sofa, I sink into the soft cushions, watching as Solas settles down next to me.  “Vhenan, such furniture you have.  I confess I have spent nights sleeping in your bed, or stretched out on this sofa, simply enjoying the luxury.”

 

How?

 

“I see the questions in your eyes,” He sounds amused.  “Perhaps I should start with your story, as I understand it.”  Twisting slightly on the sofa he turns to me, “You were born into a family of ten children.  A middle child.  The only introvert; easily overlooked amongst all the extroverts.”  Seriously, how does he know this?  “The man who sired you, named you Marylin Joy, which you prefer to shorten to MJ.”

 

I stare at him in shock, he’s not wrong on anything.  “The man who sired you, and the woman who gave birth to you, painted a perfect picture to the outside world.  Behind closed doors things were very different.”

 

Shrinking back from him, I huddle, afraid of what he’s going to say.  “Ma lath.  Please.  I do not tell you this to hurt you.  You left memories of your life for me.  You explained about your childhood, the way you felt you did not fit in, why your father insisted you had a room all to yourself, far from everyone.”

 

Oh god, he knows.  It took me years in therapy to talk about this to my therapist.

 

“Ma asha,” I’ve already slammed my eyes shut and put my hands over my eyes.  A holdout from my childhood, if I can’t see it, it can’t be happening.  “MJ.  Breathe.  You are safe.  There is no one here to harm you.  Breathe in da’asha.  Breathe out ma lath.”  Following his instructions, we calm my breathing down.  “Good.  You are doing so well,” encourages me to keep going.

 

Once I’m calmer, and can open my eyes again, he motions for me to move closer, “Come vhenan.  Rest against me.  I will keep my summary of your life short.”  Hesitantly I do rest against him.  His arm closest to me, sits over my shoulders, yet he doesn’t hold me tight against him.  If I needed to, I think I could just bolt off the sofa, and get away from him.

 

“I am aware of it all.  You hid nothing from me,” Oh god.  I tremble and shake, pressing my face into his shoulder.  “That you survived all you did, and yet grew up into such a caring, loving, giving person; speaks highly of your generous spirit.  From the trauma of your childhood, to the horseless carriage accident, and resulting life altering injuries, you went on to build a life for yourself.  I was greatly heartened to learn of Baron, and the joy you brought to each other.”  I told him about Baron?  “I was horrified by the barbaric treatment your people use, for this disease you call Cancer, and the debilitating effects on you.”

 

His free hand moves across his lap, so he can run a finger down mine, “I have no knowledge of how you left your world and came to be in mine.  I know there was a Dalish hunter spying on the Conclave, she gained my Mark, and it was killing her, even as she entered the Fade.  She died there, and you claimed her body as your own.  It was you who walked out of the Fade.  You who lead the Inquisition on its first faltering steps into the world.  You who chose the mages.  You who closed the Breach.”

 

If a Dalish elf had the Mark, why am I human?

 

“I know you are aware of the potential events that would have happened, so I will not detail them.  We fell in love.  We conceived a child together.  A daughter.  You named her Rose, after my mother.  We married,” WTF?  My brain skids and circles his last few statements.  None of that was ever in Inquisition.  “An assassination attempt on your life, while you were eight months pregnant, claimed Rose’s life, and nearly yours.”

 

Mind blown, I jerk away from him in shock.  “Rose died?”  I had a daughter?  And she died?  I lost her?

 

There are tears in his eyes, one slides down his cheek, “Yes.  Our beautiful flower was taken from us.  The Inquisition hunted down the remaining Spirit Healers in a desperate bid to save you.  They barely made it in time.”  His hand catches hold of mine.

 

“Maddened with grief, helpless to aid the healers tending you, I hunted for our daughter’s murderer.  And I found her,” He breaks off turning his head from me.  I’m really not going to like this.  “It was one of my people.  An agent I had planted into the Inquisition myself.  I had trusted her to keep you, and our daughter safe, instead she took Rose from us.  I slew her in a fit of rage.”

 

Oh fuck.

 

“Broken, I returned to find you still lived, and had regained consciousness.  Then the sky was ripped open, a madman’s last gambit for power.  Hurt as you were, you still led the Inquisition to the final battle, though you had to ride behind me, too weak to ride by yourself.  The Inquisition triumphed, completing its Mandate, but my orb was destroyed in the process.  Ashamed of all that had occurred, I fled from you, no craven coward could have run swifter than I did,” Shoulders bowed, he faces me, and there are tears streaming down his face.

 

“Believe me Vhenan.  I would have given my own life, suffered any torment, long before I would allow any harm to come to you, or Rose,” He sort of topples onto me.  I’m forced to clutch at him, as his whole body shakes.  Holding him as he silently sobs I reel in shock.

 

A car accident when I was thirteen meant I lost the ability to have children.  I was pinned in the car seat by metal, both from the car itself, and the load that had shifted on the lorry in front of us, they had to cut me out of the car.  There was simply too much internal damage, the surgeons had to remove several organs.  My womb, my cervix, one ovary, my spleen, my appendix, half my liver, parts of my intestines, and a kidney.  I can’t believe I had a child.  Does this mean I can have more children?  And why can’t I remember any of this?

 

Rubbing circles on his back, I try and process his story.  As unbelieve as it sounds, some things ring true.  Plus I appear to be in Thedas.  Solas clearly knows me.  But why are we at the beginning of Inquisition, and not the end?  A seed of why starts to grow.

 

When he calms down, he stays where he is, neither of us moving.  Falling back on mediation, I practice Mindfulness, all these revelations are going to take a while to absorb.  And any decisions to be made, are going to have to wait, at least for now.

 

Stirring in my arms, he lifts his head to look at me.  He’s a complete mess.  Solas is not a pretty crier.  Red puffy eyes, snot crusted around his nose, blotchy cheeks, “Dawn comes all too soon my love.”  And he sounds like he has a heavy cold.

 

“So when did you mess with time magic?” I blurt out, making him flinch.

 

“You spent two years building a library of memories in the Fade.  All for me.  You left me knowledge from your world.  And your life story.  You told me you already knew who I was, named me Fen’Harel.  Predicted what would happen should I go through with my original plan.”  His face is lowered back onto me, muffling his, “And then you took your own life.”

 

I’m feeling a little numb right now.  There’s just too much to deal with.  Though my suicide isn’t that surprising.  I do have suicidal tendencies.  It’s why I’ve always had to keep my life goals firmly in front of me.  To continue with therapy regularly.  To have something to live for.  Else I could quickly spiral, and have no way to break the spiral into depression, and then suicide.

 

Solas moves his head a little, “I did go through with my plan.  And every seed I sowed bore the bitterest of fruit.  I watched for uncounted ages, as your predictions came to pass, and despaired at my people’s self-destructiveness.  Those from before the fall of Arlathan, like Abelas, came to me, and begged me to undo the horror of our new world.”  Wait, who’s Abelas?  Oh yeah, dude from the Temple near the end.  “We planned, plotted, and then combined our power, sending me back, to ensure such a future will never come to pass.”

 

I was right.  He did use time magic.

 

“As such I pass the future of my people to you.  I know you will save them, if they can even be saved.  I will have to remove the Veil, as its presence will ultimately destroy this world, and I now know how to do so, without the destruction from before,” It’s one bombshell after another.  “I pledge my undying love, and loyalty, to you.  No more lies between us.  No more secrets.  I wish to spend all the ages of this world with you.”

 

A deep shudder runs through him, “I knew you would be aghast at anyone dying for you to inhabit their body.  Instead, I sought a body you would find acceptable.  Evelyn is a good match.  She was from a large family in the Free Marches.  Very traditional.  Very religious.  As soon as it was discovered she was a mage, she was disowned by her family, disinherited, and sent immediately to a Circle, in chains.  She has since been struck from the records of their family tree.  At the Circle, she suffered at the hands of a Templar, whose hatred of her family blinded him.  He tortured her in ways similar to the man who sired you,” Oh god.  I cling a bit harder to Solas, that poor girl.  “He stole the equipment for the Rite of Tranquillity.  Forced the Rite on her, against all the rules of his Order, and when those consequences caught up with him, he murdered her.”  My hands tighten on his clothes, “Her family did nothing to avenge her, they had already washed their hands of her.  She was buried in an unmarked grave and forgotten.”  Those bastards.

 

“Your natural reactions will match those expected of Evelyn.  Leliana will find nothing suspicious.  Both she, and Cassandra, are aware the Rite can be reversed.  Love and I will be with you, to guide you as you learn to live in Thedas, to protect you, and help you,” He looks back up at me.  “I have fabricated memories, and documents for our marriage.  No one will be able to dispute it.  It is quite legal.

 

“I then spun memories to have your newly created and empty body, waiting in the Temple for the attack.  I was the one to move it, so it touched my Orb, to transport your body to the Fade for you to find.  They believe we were separated on our way to the Conclave.  You were attacked by Templars, which will cover the way you always move away from them, and were clearly not able bodied enough to destroy the Temple,” Turning it over in my head, I can’t find many issues, except he’s told everyone we’re married, and we’re technically not.  He undid the time line where we got married.

 

He might remember me, but he’s a stranger from a video game to me.

 

Jerking his head up and to one side, he says, “We are no longer alone, one of Leliana’s people is here, with someone else.  I will see why they are disturbing us,” Suddenly he’s gone, leaving me lying on my sofa wondering about everything he’s told me.

 

**oOo**

 

Loud voices have me opening my eyes.  Staring up at a wooden ceiling, I can hear Solas saying, “You will bleed my wife, only when the last breath has left my body.  She is simply exhausted.  All she needs is rest.”

 

“I am no mere novice in the healing arts, and your wife’s humours must be balanced, immediately,” A woman says, same kind of accent as Leliana, but thicker, making it harder to understand her.  “I would not expect a rabbit like you, to understand the delicate work required to balance the humours.”  Rabbit?  Solas is an elf, not a small cuddly long eared hoppy mammal.

 

He is more cuddly than I thought he’d be though.

 

“My wife’s humours are perfectly balanced,” Solas sounds pissed.  I’d rather take on Cassandra than an angry Solas.  “Touch her, however, and I will unbalance yours, permanently.”  Wow.  Mild mannered Fade nerd he is not.  “I am more than qualified to care for my wife.  I have spent years by her side, learning healing directly from her.  All I have learned tells me she merely needs rest.  She has mana exhaustion; and is also recovering from the wounds inflicted by her attackers, the large amount of healing magic pressed into her, and then her exertions climbing a mountain to stabilise the Breach.”  Hey, I did stabilise it.  At least it wasn’t a total waste of time.

 

“Poppycock,” The woman says.  People actually say ‘poppycock’?  “I will speak to the Nightingale herself.  She will have you removed, and publicly beaten for this outrage.”  Huh?  “A knife ear should know their place.  How dare you threaten me.  I will be given access to the Lady Herald.  I will save her from these uneducated fumbling’s, you laughingly call ‘healing’.”  I don’t think I like her.

 

“Ser Solas,” Another woman says.  “The Herald has been unconscious for days now.  It’s not unreasonable to allow a fully trained healer, one with the respect, and reputation, of Surgeon Dubois, to at least check your wife.”  I know voices like hers.  They spoke to me after my sperm donor was found out as a paedophile.  They had all the video evidence, and they still treated me like shit.  They spoke down to me.  Hid their underhanded negativity in ‘helpfulness’.  Right now, this woman’s refusing to listen to Solas, or work with him, she’s undermining him, making it sound like he’s the one being unreasonable.

 

Solas isn’t taking it from her, “Scout Isla, I would happily allow a healer near my wife.  I will not allow a blood sucking, parasitic, imbecile, like Dubois, near her.  Please feel free to discuss mana exhaustion with the remaining mages, and Templars, here in Haven.  My wife’s symptoms match it exactly.  They will all tell you the same cure.  The mage needs to rest.”  I silently cheer him on.  I wish I could have done that in some of my ‘meetings’ as a child.

 

“I will,” Isla says.  “And then I will take my findings to the Nightingale, so she can deal with your insubordinate attitude.”  Oh, someone’s real personality is peeking out.  What’s the saying? ‘Judge a person on how they treat their perceived inferiors, not their equals, or betters’, or something, and this Isla’s showing exactly who she really is.

 

Dubois adds, “Enjoy your heightened status while you can, you filthy rabbit.  When the Herald wakes, she will soon find a more suitable, and advantageous match, leaving you where you belong; in the dirt.”

 

Slamming doors, and a deep sigh, have me turning my head to see Solas, standing alone, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “Fools.”

 

I can feel the lumpiness of the bed under me, the scratchiness of the wool blanket over me, the smell of burning wood from the fireplace.  Under my skin, inside me, at my core, I can feel something new.  “ ** _That is your mana_** ,” Love says.  “ ** _You have begun acclimatising to this world_**.”  I’m really here, “ ** _Yes_**.”  I’m really in Thedas, “ ** _Yes_**.”  Solas really did reset the clock, “ ** _Yes_**.”

 

Panic slams into me.  I can’t breathe.  I’m going to die.  I can’t breathe.  Someone is holding me.  I can’t breathe.  My lungs don’t work.  I can’t breathe.  I’m blind, I can’t see, my eyes won’t open.  I can’t breathe.  Someone is saying something, I can’t hear them, my heartbeat is drowning them out.  I can’t breathe.  I’m suffocating.  I can’t breathe.

 

Tingles spread over my chest, suddenly my chest moves, and I can breathe.  When I try to breathe by myself my muscles ignore me.  Struggling against the tingles, and the arms holding me, I’m snapped back into awareness by a memory.  I’m in the hospital.  I had to be on assisted breathing machines.  I learnt to breathe with the machines.  I let go, stop fighting, and my chest moves.

 

I breathe.

 

I can’t hear the familiar beeping noises from the machines.  Maybe they turned the alarms off, or turned the volume down?  Relaxing into the machine’s rhythm, my chest is moved for me, my oxygen levels will be monitored, I’m safe, I can trust the machines to do this job for me.

 

“Good da’asha,” A voice says soothingly.  “You are doing so well.”  He’s holding me, but not so tightly it interferes with the machine.  A hand runs through my hair, caressing my scalp.  A wave of exhaustion crashes into me.  I’m too tired to do anything except tumble into darkness.

 

**oOo**

 

Brow creasing in irritation, Cullen manages to hold his temper, but only barely.  His headache’s building steadily to blinding pain.  The Inquisition cannot afford to have its Commander too sick to function, he has to find the strength to keep going.  This is his chance to serve, to do what’s right.

 

“And I demand the rabbit is beaten publicly for this,” The annoying Orlesian woman is harping on at him.  “The Lady Herald must be bled.  The poor woman is dying even as we speak.”  Maker save him from idiots.  Why had Leliana sent this fool to him to deal with?  She knows he has no patience for this sort of thing.

 

“Healer Dubois,” He tries to cut in.  Anything to shut her up, his ears can’t take much more of this.  “Lady Evelyn is suffering from mana exhaustion.  I’ve seen it many times in mages.  All the healers that have attended her, under the watchful, and protective eye of her husband Solas,” And Maker save them all from the grumpy Apostate.  The man took ‘protective’ to a whole new level.  His tongue could tear strips off a rampaging high dragon.  “Have all agreed with the diagnosis, and cure.  Solas has also informed us, Lady Evelyn is stirring in the Fade, returning to consciousness.  We expect her to wake either today, or tomorrow.”

 

Solas’ skills in the Fade were hard to swallow, yet Cassandra trusted him, so Cullen was willing to give the Apostate the benefit of the doubt.  It certainly helped the man had been right about everything Fade related so far.

 

Behind the odious woman, Cullen gratefully spies one of his lieutenants, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”  Striding off, he motions the bewildered solider to walk with him, as he makes his escape.  Leliana can have the damn leech back whining to her.  His ears need time to heal from that unwanted barrage.


	10. Therapy Wolf, Carer, and Husband

Fur in my face.  Fur under my hands.  Opening my eyes, I sleepily try to cuddle my cat.  Only he’s too big.  And he’s white.  And wolf shaped.  Blinking in surprise at the wolf peacefully submitting to my touch, it takes a while for my brain to catch up.

 

His grey eyes, with a hint of blue, gaze at me calmly, and when he speaks, he sounds like Solas, “Ma Vhenan.  Are you well?”

 

Memories bubble up.  Oh.  I had a panic attack.  Too much information at once.  Linked to the realisation, I’m here, I’m really here in Thedas.  Mutely I nod.  I have no idea if I’m really okay, or well, or whatever.  Sometimes faking it is all you can do.

 

“Good,” He says, tail wagging.  Wolves don’t wag their tails, not like domesticated dogs do.  Grumbling growls vibrate from my midriff, and his ears prick up.  “It would seem your stomach is also wide awake.  Would you like some food?”  I must nod, because he picks himself up, turns, and lopes off the bottom of the bed.  When he stands up, he’s an elf again, “I will get you something.”

 

Walking towards the doorway, he vanishes through it, and suddenly I’m struggling to breathe.  Clutching at my chest, I try and make it work, “ ** _Calm child_** ,” Love says like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

 

“ ** _It is_** ,” Another voice says.  I vaguely recognise it, “ ** _Yes, I am Wisdom.  Solas is in the small room between this one and the door to Haven.  He is making you porridge and gathering fruit for you_**.”  I’m struggling to get my lungs to work.  “ ** _It is anxiety.  Solas is familiar to you, in a very unfamiliar place.  I will bring him for you_**.”  I’m expecting her to leave me too, instead she calls out, “ ** _Solas!  Eevee needs you_**.”  A loud clanging clatter rings out, and Solas is hurrying towards me.  “ ** _It would be wise to stay in range of her sight, until she is more familiar with this place_**.”

 

Warm arms wrap around me and I can breathe again.  I have no idea why there are tears on my face, or why I appear to be sobbing, “I’m sorry,” over, and over again.  I don’t even know what I’m apologising for.

 

“There is nothing to be sorry for,” Is spoken into my ear, as I’m rocked, and held tightly.  “Ir abelas ma asha, I did not mean to cause you suffering.”

 

It’s stupid.  Why would Solas stepping out of sight affect me like this?  I’m such an idiot!  “ ** _No_** ,” Wisdom’s voice interrupts me.  “ ** _You are not an idiot.  You are a woman who has lost her whole world, and you seek a new home.  Solas’ is a known stable quantity.  It is little wonder you cling to the safety he offers you_**.”

 

Warm lips touch my forehead, as he tucks me closer to him, and begins to hum a soothing tune.  My stomach refuses to stay quiet, hunger pangs making themselves known, loudly.  “I do not need to leave the room to gather your food.  I will stand in the doorway.  You will be able to see me the whole time,” He says possibly trying to reassure me.

 

I really don’t want to let go of him, but, I am hungry.  Releasing him, I watch, anxiously, as he goes to the doorway.  He leans on the door jam, in the same way as he did in my dream.  “I will go no further,” He tells me, and I can feel something in the air.

 

“ ** _Solas is using magic to gather your food_** ,” Love tells me.  “ ** _You are aware of it due to your incredible sensitivity to it.  One of the reasons you will struggle to be around Templars is their ‘dulling’ effect_**.”  I simply accept what it says too overloaded to argue.

 

“Not much longer Beloved,” He says, concentrating on something around the corner.  When Solas stands up from the door jam, he says, “Your food is ready.  I will finish heating the porridge at your bedside.”  He helps me to sit up, plumping my pillows, so I can lean into them.  Then he perches on the bed beside me, as two bowls and a cup float over to him, one of them has the promised porridge in it.  Steam begins to rise from the bowl, the aroma of milk and oats hitting my nose, and my stomach caterwauls for a bite.

 

Leaving the other things simply floating in mid-air, he dips the spoon in the porridge, blows on it, and then offers it to me.  He’s even better than the nurses and carers in the hospital.  I thought they were good at tending to me, and not making me feel like a burden, or useless for not having the coordination and strength to do this for myself anymore.  Solas seems to know when to let me savour the food, so I can let it slip down my throat gently, and when to have the next spoonful ready.

 

I have to be so careful when I eat.  Chemo really messes up your stomach.  In the days following treatment, if I eat it too fast, I tend to bring food straight back up.  Pausing part way through I check to see how the food is sitting.  I tentatively hope this is going to be a good food day.  No cramps.  No stomach twists.  No nausea.  “So far so good,” I tell Solas as I gently pat my belly.

 

“Excellent,” He lifts the bowl up, and when he takes his hand away, the bowl hovers there.  A cup levitates to his hand.  “I have some water for you.  Cooler than room temperature, yet not so cold your new stomach will get chilled from it.”

 

Drinking without a straw is a fiddlier manoeuvre than eating.  Solas manages it with grace.  Cheating outrageously with magic, he helps brace me in the right position, and again seems to know just when to tip the cup.  Sipping at the water, I sigh contentedly.  I could get used to my stomach not kicking back at me.

 

In fact, not one part of my body is currently aching.  Being pain free is an absolute godsend.  Cup now floating in thin air too, Solas is free to settle me back down a little.  One of his hands curls around mine on my stomach.  “You’re good at this,” I compliment him.  “Seriously, best carer ever.”

 

“Ma serannas,” Solas says, his hand squeezing mine gently.  “Are you ready for the rest of the porridge?  Or do you wish to rest your stomach and see how it reacts first?”

 

It’s really tasty porridge.  I really want to just eat the lot of it.  “I don’t want it to get cold,” but I don’t want to trigger vomiting either.

 

“I will simply warm it again when you are ready,” Solas waves his free hand at me, “Magic is a very versatile tool.”  I eye up the floating crockery and wonder if I can do that one day.  “Perhaps we will give you ten minutes.  Then you can see if you are ready for more food.”

 

“Sounds like a plan,” I relax into the pillows, resting, though I’m not exhausted like I normally am.  Who would have thought eating could take it out of you so much?  Sometimes I won’t be recovered enough from the last meal, by the time the next one comes around.

 

Moving his hand away from mine, Solas leans across my legs, and in front of my eyes, Solas the elf is gone, and a big white wolf is lounging there.  His fur is so damn inviting, I plunge my fingers into it.  I’m careful not to pull his fur as I stroke him.  Noises, like the ones the therapy dogs make, let me know where it’s best to touch him.  He even lets me gently rub the base of one of his ears.  Tail thumping softly, Solas stretches out, and closes his eyes.

 

Delighted at this turn of events, I love every moment of fussing him.  Therapy animals are in such high demand, they can never stay for long in my room, too many patients to see, in too little time.  When his head comes up, and he moves off me, I know I make a disappointed sound.  His muzzle nuzzles my hand, making me giggle with a quick lick of his tongue.  “Food first, then you may pet me again.”

 

“Fine,” I’m okay with that.  Solas is soon feeding me the re-heated porridge.  This time, I finish the bowl.  “Oh, that was good,” I rub my belly.  “Still no cramps,” I give him a thumbs up.

 

Capturing my hand in his, he pulls it up to his face, pressing a kiss to my thumb, “I am pleased the body I made for you is working so well.”  Flushing at the kiss, I want to jerk my hand away from him, but his words sink in, slowly.  I have a new body.  One Solas made for me.  One without all the accumulated damage mine had.  “Would you like to try some dried fruit?  To see how it sits in your stomach?”

 

My automatic reaction is no, I pause mouth half open, and then give him a tentative nod.  He sends the used porridge bowl away, heading towards the other room, and the last one moves closer to us.  “I have a few slices of apple, pear, and some raisins for you.”  Fishing in the bowl, he holds a small piece of fruit out to me, “Here ma lath, try some apple.”  As the fruit is in his fingers, when he puts the fruit in my mouth, my lips ghost over his fingers.  He doesn’t say anything about that, only, “There, is the taste pleasing to you?”

 

Biting down into the fruit, I have to close my eyes at the taste.  I’ve had bland medically balanced food for so long now, I’d forgotten what real apples taste like.  Flavour explodes over my tongue, a groan is pulled out of me, and I never want this to end.  Warm chuckles come from him, as well as, “Take your time.  Savour this moment.  I suspect this will be the first of many things you will enjoy here in Thedas.”

 

Since I can be occasionally obedient, I do take my time, I do savour it.  I also savour every single piece of fruit he hand feeds me.  I was a bit worried about his fingers on, or in, my mouth, but he doesn’t push it, doesn’t make it weird.  I may pout a little when he runs out of fruit.  Probably best not to chance it.  My stomach’s behaving right now, I’ll wait and see how it copes, and maybe I can have more fruit later.

 

Solas helps me finish the water in the cup, and then sends the used crockery away to the other room.  He lounges back across my legs.  The second he changes shape, I have my hands in his fur.  Wiggling a little, he soon settles down, his eyes slide shut, and I’m free to pet him to my hearts content.

 

I’ve missed having my own pet.  I was devastated when Baron passed away.  In the middle of talks with a local animal shelter about another cat, I’d collapsed, and things kept messing up.  Fucking side effects from medication.  You take the stuff to stay alive, but it makes you sicker in other ways, then you have to take something to cope with that.  On and on it goes.  We concluded I was not in a good position, health wise, to give an animal a good home.  They did let me foster a few older animals in my good periods, it always broke my heart when I had to hand them over to their forever homes.

 

Busy losing myself in the rhythm of stroking Solas, I’ve no idea how much time has passed.  He seems content to submit to my touch.  All those fanfictions hinted at him being touch starved.  I know how that feels.  I can’t stand being touched by people.  Animals are safe.  The weight on my legs is so good.  The sensation of fur on my hands.  His warm skin under the fur.  If I let my hand linger on his side, his chest rises and falls under it.

 

Relaxed and soothed, I’m beginning to doze, when my bladder twinges.  It’s going to need to be emptied soon.  Oh god.  This is always such a drama with someone new.  Though, if Solas is good at feeding and watering me, will he be good at helping me take care of this too?  I also don’t appear to hate him touching me.  Humiliation might burn through me at needing help to pee, but I have to be practical about this.

 

“Solas?” My cheeks are already heating in embarrassment.  God, please let him be okay with this.  I can’t do this for myself anymore.  He offered to help me with the food, I don’t know what he’ll be like with toilet duties.

 

“Hmm?” He rolls a little, nudging my hand with his nose, encouraging me to pet him.

 

“Um.  I need to pee.  Can you help me? Please?” Please say yes, please just say yes.

 

“Of course, ma asha,” Oh thank god.  Where there was a wolf in my lap, now there’s an elf.  Standing gracefully, he begins to peel the covers off me, exposing my legs.  It means I can see what I’m wearing.  Some kind of nightdress.  It’s very long, all the way down to my feet, cream, and plain.  Possibly made from a cotton like fabric.  Hands under my ankles help me bring my feet, and legs, to the side of the bed, and down to the floor.

 

Soon I’m on my feet, with Solas steadying me as I get my balance.  He has to duck down, so he can start to bunch my nightdress up.  When it’s high enough, he lets go, and it stays up.  His hands are warm on my hips, he does something, and then he’s removing my briefs.  How’d he do that?  “ ** _They are tied on each side.  He undid them_** ,” Love says.  Oh, I suppose that makes sense, they wouldn’t have elastic here.

 

Guiding me over the corner of the room, at the bottom of the bed, Solas gestures with a hand, and a big, white pot, with a handle, slides out from under the bed.  Confused I look around trying to work out where the toilet is.  “Come Vhenan.  I will steady you as you use the chamber pot.”

 

Huh?

 

In slow motion, and slowly dawning horror, I look back down at the pot.  Oh fuck.  He wants me to pee in a pot.  There is no toilet, because, there is no indoor plumbing.  Gripping him harder, I shake my head vehemently.  “I can’t,” I almost wail it.

 

“Ma lath,” I’m gathered close to him, my head tucked into his neck, as I shake.  Hiding myself in his neck is a dumb thing to do.  Logically I’m aware my bare arse is out there for the world to see, and one of Solas’ hands is on my naked hips.  His other hand is rubbing circles on my back, he hums softly, clearly trying to calm me down.  “MJ, please, what ails you?  How can I help you?”

 

“I can’t use the damn pot,” How do I explain this?  “Solas, I can’t get down that far, I’ll fall, and then I won’t be able to pick myself up.”  I hate it when I fall.  I used to be able to so much more, my mobility was nibbled away, one small crumb at a time.  I didn’t want to admit it.  Then I fell, and I couldn’t get up.  Thank god I had a panic button on a necklace.  They had to send someone to my house, then they called an ambulance for me.  I should have been too young to need that level of care.

 

“Ah,” He says, “I understand.”  Oh, thank god.  I relax into him.  He gets it.  “Yet there are several factors you have not taken into account,” Is not what I’m expecting from him.  “This body is new.  It is more than capable of allowing you to kneel, and then stand.  Also, I will be here the whole time.  I will not allow you to fall or get stuck.  I am strong enough to pick you up from the floor and carry you back to bed.”

 

“Really?”  I want to believe him.  “Normally there’s two people, and a sling, to make sure there aren’t any accidents.”  It’s clever the way they do it.  More complicated, but the end result is strangely easier, and I’ve never had any issues crop up.

 

“I have magic,” Is a pretty good counter argument.  Floating bowls and cups fresh in my mind.

 

Cuddled into him I think it over.  Worst case scenario, he could get Cassandra, and Herah, to help him.  “Okay, it could work.”  I hesitate.  “Um, when I’m down, how are you going to catheterise me?  Magic?”  Will that be something I can do as well?

 

“Trust me,” Is not very reassuring.  “I have something better to help you.”  Oh, okay.  He was exceptional at feeding me.  I nod my acceptance.  “Thank you,” His lips press against my forehead.  “I will not let you down.”

 

My arms end up around his neck, his around my middle.  I’m not convinced about this.  Nurses in modern hospitals would never handle a patient like this.  On the way down, he encourages me to brace my knees, which do hold my weight, and he takes the rest.  Our decent is slow, smooth, and steady.  Not once do I feel unsafe.

 

Settled over the pot I wait for him to do whatever he’s going to.  “Now, Beloved,” He says, kneeling in front of me.  “You will need to scan your new body.  The same technique you used on Herah will work perfectly.”  Confused, I need Love to help me remember what I did.  “Centre your scan on your bladder,” I do as he says.  “Notice this part,” It lights up on my scan.  “Concentrate on it, when you have it fixed in your mind, you need only relax it.”

 

Concentrating on it, I get it fixed in my mind, “Okay.  How do I relax it?”  He hasn’t told me how to do that.

 

For a second he seems to frown, then he’s kissing me on the forehead, “Ir abelas.  Do you want to watch me this time?”  He asks, softly.  It might be easier to watch, so I nod.  “Very well, watch how I gently send the message to this part, and ask it to relax.”  I do watch and then I get distracted because I’m peeing by myself.  There’s no catheter inserted, this is almost me doing this by myself.  Excited, I lose concentration too busy mentally doing a jig in my head.  Afterwards, Solas attempts to show me how to magically wipe myself.  Love has already assured me it’ll help me do this later on.

 

Getting up is as easy as getting down.  Supporting me, Solas keeps encouraging me to push myself up.  Crushing me in a hug at the end, he congratulates me, and then puts my underwear back on, tying them securely.  “Ma asha, does this body please you?”

 

Nodding happily, I let him sweep me back into a hug.  Solas is seriously into cuddles.  “I love this body Solas,” I tell him honestly.  “My stomach is behaving.  I nearly peed by myself.  And did you see me nearly get down on the floor, and up again, on my own?”

 

“I did,” More warm lips on my forehead.  “You grow stronger every moment my love.”  Pulling back from me a little, he asks, “Would you care to try dancing?”

 

Biting my lip, I hedge, “I’d love to dance, but, I don’t think I’m up to it, yet.”  God damn it.  I used to love dancing as a kid.  I was probably hopeless.  When you’re a kid how you dance doesn’t matter, only moving matters.

 

“Hmm, you left me memories of many dances.  You said there was a dance called ‘swaying’, where two people would stand together, and sway from side to side,” Solas leans his forehead down to mine.  “I would like to try this swaying.  You said people could shuffle their feet, or they could stay in one place.”

 

I’m tempted.  Wisdom says, “ ** _This may be a safe test for your body.  Gentle sways, with Solas supporting you. You can see if your mobility has increased_**.”  It does have a point.

 

“Okay, but you may have to hold me up,” I agree.

 

“Of course,” Solas quickly waves the chamber pot away, back under the bed.  My hands are lifted back to his shoulders, as his hands slide around my waist.  “It would be best, for now, until you are more balanced, to be close to me.  This way your body can lean into mine.”

 

Uh-huh.  Sure.  Suspicious, I can’t see anything untoward on his face.  I do let him step closer, and I do lean into him.  We stand there for a few minutes, while I wait for him to lead, and then he’s swaying us from side to side.  We barely move.  And he does support me, so I can relax in his arms, and enjoy this very simple version of dancing.

 

It isn’t until he’s smiling back, I realise I’m grinning like a loon.  I could get used to this.

 

So far, I’ve shape changed into a honey badger, healed someone, dreamed in the Fade, eaten food with no bad reactions, almost peed by myself, and now I’m dancing.  I’m actually dancing.  What else can I do?

 

Things were terrifying when I first woke up in Thedas.  Then we joined Solas, and I have to admit, since then things have gotten better.  It helps he can turn into a wolf, he’s an excellent carer, and he’s accepted my limitations without blaming me for them.

 

**oOo**

 

Holding her like this is close to perfection.

 

“ ** _You must tread more lightly wolf_** ,” Wisdom warns him.  He does not startle at its unexpected presence.  Last time it refused to even approach him, declining to speak with him, and choosing death at his hands instead of rebirth.  “ ** _She has yet to fall in love with you.  You came close to pushing her away_**.”  Only untold years of training allow him to override the urge to clutch Eevee close at its words.  “ ** _You must allow her freedom_** ,” She must stay in his arms.  “ ** _If you truly seek her love, she must see your arms as her home, not her prison_** ,” Wanting to deny the truth of its counsel, he cannot.

 

“ ** _She will turn to you_** ,” Love says, he holds tight its words, instead of the woman he loves.  “ ** _You have already tended to her with kindness, compassion, and not judged her for her old body’s weaknesses.  She reached out to you, and you provided_**.”  If only such simple things could guarantee her love in return.  “ ** _Nothing can do so.  Yet for her, these things will be more precious than you understand_**.”

 

Her soft laughter fills his ears, deafening him to all else.  Her scent fills his nose, no other scent can turn his head from her.  Her beauty fills his eyes, blinding him.  Her body fills his arms, no other will they hold.

 

“ ** _Patience_** ,” Wisdom says, knowing this is one of many qualities he struggles with.  “ ** _Yet you must master it, and quickly.  She will need you as a friend, long before she will look to you as a lover might_**.”  Savouring this moment, he wishes it would never pass, but all things do.  A knock on the door tells him their stolen time together is over, now he must share her with all of Thedas.

 

He knows only one thing for certain, they will come to love her, almost as much as he does, and they will be changed forever by it, just as he is.


	11. Seeds of Independence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I was expecting them to do more in this chapter, MJ and Solas are dragging their heels a bit. Hope you enjoy.

A knock on the door has me freezing in Solas’ arms.  Looking up at him, he doesn’t appear to be worried or upset.  He uses the moment to kiss my forehead again.  A wave of a hand has the chamber pot reappearing.  “Lean on me vhenan.  You must appear weaker than you are.  They must believe you are still recovering from exhaustion.”

 

“Okay,” I’ll follow his lead on this, for now, he’s been through this before, he’ll know roughly how they’ll react.  Hopefully any plan he concocts won’t blow up in our faces.

 

“Enter,” He calls out, gently leading me back towards the bed.  One of his arms is around me, so I can lean into him, as I move.  At my normal shuffling speed this may take a while.

 

“Solas,” The door opens.  “Brought you a new book to read to Eevee,” It’s Herah.  She’s in our room, closing the door, before she realises I’m awake, and out of bed.  “Eevee?”  Her face lights up.

 

“ ** _It would be wise to let her assume you have only just woken up_** ,” Wisdom says.  “ ** _Mention the chamber pot to her_**.”  I have no idea how to do that.

 

Giving her a quick wave with my free hand, I say, “Yes.  Bladder woke me up,” Her eyes flick to the chamber pot, and back to me.  Ha, nailed it.  “Are you and your brother well?  I’ve not had a chance to ask Solas.”  I can’t believe I forgot to ask about her, her brother, and Varric.  “What about Varric?”

 

“Yeah, we’re all good,” She says.  “The guys are going to be happy to hear you woke up.”  Moving over to a table, she puts a book on it.  “How are you feeling?  Still tired?”

 

“ ** _Tell her yes_** ,” Wisdom says.

 

“Yes,” I parrot back.

 

“Figures,” Herah leans on our fireplace, holding her hands out to the fire.  “I had it once, took me days to recover.  Take my advice, don’t hurry to do anything, it can set you back,” She stops talking, her shoulders droop.  “Sorry, forgot you’re a healer, so you’ll know all this.”

 

I don’t know all of that.  “No Herah, thank you for caring enough to tell me,” I say, warmed she does thinks enough of me to tell me.  “Not everyone would.”  I’ve not known her for very long, is this the norm for people in Thedas?  Or just of vashoth?

 

“True,” She says.  “Hey Solas?”

 

“Hmm?  Yes Herah?”  He’s still helping me back to bed.  I’m aware he’s told everyone I’m exhausted to cover for me, but I’ve spent my life in and out of hospital beds.  And I have a new body.  My stomach is still okay.  My body doesn’t ache.  I don’t really want to go back to bed right now.

 

“I bumped into the Seeker,” Herah says.  Oh, Cassandra.  I hope she’s okay too.  “We passed each other as I was coming out of the library.  Fun fact, she might be a fan of Varric’s books.”

 

Cassandra is very much a fan of Varric’s books, just not of Varric himself.  “Truly?”  Solas stops moving us, to look over to her.  “In the interactions I have witnessed, I would have stated she dislikes Varric, intently.”

 

Herah’s face turns wicked, “Yep, me too.  Except for the way she reacted to his book.  Can’t wait to tell the little shit, to see his face for myself.”  Sobering a little, she stands up straight, “Also, she told me to tell you, well commanded is closer to it, to go to the Chantry immediately.  She said that word a few times.  As she, and Leliana, need to discuss Eevee’s recovery with you.”

 

“ ** _It would be wise to go with him_** ,” Wisdom says chiming in.  “ ** _You will be needed for this_**.”  Well it is Wisdom, following its advice is probably a good idea.

 

“Why?” Solas asks questioning Herah.  “There is little to discuss.  As you can see Eevee is recovering well.”

 

Holding up her hands, Herah says, “Hey, don’t blame me.  I’m just the messenger the Seeker browbeat into this.  Looks like Varric’s right.” He is?  About what?  “He said that stupid Orlesian woman would keep causing problems.  Last we heard, she was bleating at Josie about getting access to Eevee.”

 

Stiffening beside me, Solas grinds his teeth, and then says, “Surgeon Dubois.”  His tone of voice is like he’s stepped in something bad.  Oh, she was the horrible woman with Isla.

 

“Yep, that’s the woman,” Herah says.  “So, you want me to watch Eevee while you go straighten this all out?”  She mimes a punch, “Last idiot who tried anything, you punched ‘em.”

 

Stunned I look up at Solas, aware a gasp has slipped out.  Red flushes across his face, and his ears flatten against his head.  “You punched someone?”  Solas really isn’t being a mild-mannered Fade nerd.

 

Herah’s laughter rings out, “Yep.  Solas is worse than a mama dragon guarding you.  Idiot healer’s assistant tried touching you, without getting permission first, Solas hauled him backwards, spun him, single punch to the face; broke the kid’s nose.”  Oh my god.  “Took a bit for the blood to stop flowing.”

 

Sighing heavily, Solas interjects with, “Had he simply put fresh snow on his nose, as I stated, it would have stopped bleeding sooner.”

 

Too busy telling the story Herah says, “And both his eyes swelled shut.”  She does what I’m assuming is a mime of it.  “Kid flinches anytime you mention Solas to him.  Now only Master Adan’s brave enough to face Solas in his lair!”  Going for dramatic flair, she misses by a mile, but does drag another sigh out of Solas.

 

“I am protecting my wife.  I fail to see how they keep misunderstanding the concept,” Shaking his head, he starts leading me back to bed, again.  “And yes, your offer of watching Eevee is perfect.  Thank you.”  Turning his head to me he says, “I will not be gone long.  I will give them the news of your waking, and this nonsense will be sorted quickly.  Cassandra has proven willing to listen in the past, and Leliana is an extremely practical woman.”

 

“If you think scary as fuck is practical,” Herah says.  “Woman can cow anyone.”

 

“ ** _You must go with him_** ,” Love says.  It echoes Wisdom’s early sentiment.  Guess I’m going too then.  The thought of Solas leaving without me is unsettling, so I think I’d prefer to go anyway.

 

“ ** _Yes, it is wise to stay within sight of him, for now_** ,” Wisdom adds.  Oh, yeah, near panic attack last time was not fun.

 

“I’m going with you,” I tell him.  Might take us a while to walk there, but I’ll get a chance to look at Haven.

 

“Eevee,” Solas stops in his tracks, again.  “I strongly believe it will be better for you to stay here.”  He’s using a reasonable tone.  “You are still recovering.  I give you my word, I will go straight there and return to you without delay.”

 

My chest tightens, restricting my breathing, oh god, not another panic attack.  Clumsily turning, I grip his tunic tightly.  “You can’t leave me,” Is choked out of me.

 

Swiftly I’m yanked into his arms, my head tucked under his chin, and he’s saying, “Ir abelas.  I did not think.  Forgive me Vhenan.  I will never leave you.”  I can breathe again.  “It is doubtful they will come to us, so we will go to them.”

 

We stand there cuddling, and me calming down, when Herah asks, “So how are you going to get Eevee all the way up to the Chantry?  She can’t walk there.  She’s too exhausted.”

 

“I am more than capable of taking care of my wife’s needs,” Solas says.  “We are both capable of changing our shapes.  Did it not occur to you to question what other shapes I am familiar with?”  No.  No it did not.  I wonder what else he can turn into?

 

“ ** _A wolf_** ,” Love says, and I knew that one, he did it on the mountain.  “ ** _A hart.  A great bear.  And a dragon_** ,” Holy shit, Solas can turn into all those?  “ ** _Yes, though he will be hiding his ability to turn into a dragon from people_**.”  Right, I make a mental note of that.  If he can turn into really cool animals, why am I stuck with a mouse, and a small bird? I’m fine with the otter, and the honey badger, because of reasons.  “ ** _You will find them both extremely useful and versatile.  They are small enough most people will overlook them, or disregard them, capable of going where others may not_**.”  So, Love’s basically telling me I have stealth forms?  Hard to be stealthy as a great bear or a dragon.

 

“Really?”  Herah sounds as surprised as I feel.  “Are you sure?  I don’t mind staying with Eevee.”

 

“Thank you.  Your offer is more than generous, but it would be best, for now, if Eevee and I stay together,” His hand rubs my back soothingly.  My hands are doing some kind of death grip on his clothes.  “Now, it is time for my beloved to get dressed, and we will speak with Cassandra, and Leliana.  They will see for themselves how well Eevee is recuperating.”  Pausing he then asks, “Would you like to accompany us?  Your company is always welcome.”

 

“No, I’ll go tell Kaaras, and Varric, Eevee’s awake,” She says.  I peek out at her from Solas’ neck, she doesn’t seem to be upset.  “Good luck with the Seeker and the Nightingale, you’re going to need it.”  Walking over to us, she sweeps us into a group hug, or rather, she hugs us, we’re still holding each other.

 

“Thank you Herah,” I tell her.  “Maybe we can meet up later?  If everything’s okay?”  I kind of like her.  I don’t remember her from the game characters, she could be part of the multiplayer crew, I never gave those a go.

 

“Yep,” She gives us one last squeeze and lets us go.  “So long as you aren’t too tired, I’m totally up for it.”

 

We’re soon on our own.  This time when Solas starts leading me back to bed, he’s further away from me, encouraging me to stand on my own, and to experiment with lengthening my stride.  “Our cabin is not long enough for you to practice properly.  I hope this will be of some help for you to grow used to this body,” Solas turns us, and we head back down the cabin.

 

A few more lengths of the cabin, and he gets me to sit on the bed.  “Ma lath, try and stand unaided, without holding your stomach,” He says, stepping back a pace from me.  “I am here, and I will catch you, if you are unsteady.  Place your hands beside you on the bed, push, and you will find you stand easily.”

 

Sceptical, I do half heartedly follow his instructions.  To my complete shock, I do stand up on my own, no jabbing pains in my stomach.  “Solas!  I did it!”  Swept up into a hug, I cling to him a little, as I celebrate and crow at my achievement.  “Did you see me?  Did you see me stand up?”  Are stupid questions, because of course he saw me, he’s the one who talked me into trying it.

 

“I did,” He squeezes me tightly.  “You were perfect,” He praises me.  “Soon you will be walking unaided, dancing, running,” Okay now he’s exaggerating.  Or is he?  Could I really do all those things by myself?  Releasing me, he steps back again, “Now try sitting.  Brace your legs as you did earlier, put your hands out ready to catch yourself, and sit on the bed.”

 

Tentatively I give it a go.  My legs brace, and hold my weight.  To my utter surprise my stomach also tenses, with no pain, and I sit down gently.  No lumping down.  No falling at the last second.  This is similar to how I used to sit down when I was a kid.  Easily.  Smoothly.  With no effort.

 

On a whim I stand up and sit down several times.  Each time I get better.  “Solas! Look!”  I show off to him.  I think if I fell, I could get myself up, without any help at all.

 

“I can see you,” He’s chuckling softly.  “You are magnificent.”  Flushing at his words I shrug them off.  “So modest my little honey badger,” He sits on the bed next to me.  “You once said to me ‘Good health is a crown on the head of a well person that only a sick person can see.’  Though you were unsure of who came up with the quote.”  I never did find out who it was, the internet was good, but people didn’t always say where it came from.

 

“It’s a good quote,” I wonder where he going with this.

 

“It is an exceptionally wise quote.  One you learnt to embrace all too well.  Now you must learn to wear the crown,” His mimes putting a hat, or a crown, on my head.  “And when this body wears out we will make you a new one.”  Huh?  Changing the subject he says, “We should not keep Cassandra, or Leliana, waiting much longer.  I will help you dress, this time.  Explaining as I go.  As you get stronger, I believe you will want to start doing many of these things for yourself.  Though I hope you still allow me the privilege of doing your hair for you.  I have a great number of ideas I hope you will enjoy.”  Huh?

 

Bustling around the room, Solas gathers bits and pieces, while I sit and go back through our conversation.  Is he serious?  Could I really live more independently?  “ ** _Yes_** ,” Love says.  “ ** _This body will serve you well.  You are settling into it with no issues_**.” So I could learn to pee for myself?  “ ** _Yes_**.”  Feed myself?  “ ** _Yes_**.”  Walk all by myself?  “ ** _Yes, you will be able to walk completely unaided_**.”  Dance properly?  Not just swaying?  Proper dancing?  “ ** _There was the show you loved to watch, with all the bright dresses, and many dances.  You will be able to dance as they did_**.”

 

Oh god.

 

I don’t think I want to wake up anymore.  I think I want to stay here.  I have no idea how to fight, or defend myself.  I have no idea how to live in Thedas.  But I’ll be able to walk, to dance, to run.  To trot about as a badger, to swim as an otter, to scurry like a mouse.  And maybe fly free as a bird?

 

“ ** _Yes_** ,” Faith says.  “ ** _You will have all of this.  We will help you every step of your journey_**.”

 

“Ma vhenan!”  Solas is kneeling by me, his fingers delicately brushing tears from my face.  “What ails you?”

 

“I’m happy,” I blurt out at him, mini waterfalls from my eyes making a different statement.  Warm arms wrap around me.  Transferred onto his lap, I’m tucked under his chin.  He doesn’t tell me to stop.

 

“Then I am filled with joyfulness too,” He says, rocking me softly.  “Welcome to Thedas MJ.  I truly believe you will find great happiness here.”

 

**oOo**

 

Her tears rip at him.  Each drop of water threatens to drown him with helplessness.  Mocking him with his clear failure.  His heart is crying.  He needs to slay, to destroy whatever has caused her this pain.

 

Clinging tightly to her, and to the words, and ideas in the books she left for him, he struggles to lock his words behind his teeth.  He must remember she is a woman.  She is a being of emotion.  When her emotions run high she must be allowed to vent them.  As any lidded pot left on a hot fire, the ‘steam’ must escape.  She will need a protected space to do so safely.

 

It sounded so logical, easy, and straightforward in the books.  In reality, it is harder than he ever imagined.  The books said this moment would pass quickly for her.  It cannot come fast enough for him.

 

When she stops crying, he helps her wipe at her eyes, hands her a cloth to clear her nose.  “Sorry,” She apologises to him.

 

“There is nothing to be sorry for,” He must now validate her, support her, and let her know his arms are a safe space for her to vent.  His arms must become home to her.

 

Before him the rain clouds fade quickly from her eyes.  Warm summer sun fills them.  In his chest his physical heart beats unsteadily, as he giddily realises he has done it.  He has supported her.  He has given her the safe space she so desperately craved.  He has successfully provided for her.  No titan slain by his hand has given him such a rush of achievement, as this movement does.

 

Resting against him, she gathers herself, and when she is ready, she lifts her head.  In her eyes there is no memory of her tears, only her inner strength shines through.  Proud of her he begins her lessons.  He already knows she will learn quickly, seamlessly slipping into life here in Thedas.  The seeds of her new life watered in happiness rather than sadness and grief.

 

**oOo**

 

Fingers trailing over the leather bindings of the book, Cassandra wishes Most Holy was here.  She would have known what to do next.  Instead Cassandra knows she is floundering, more used to being pointed in a direction, she is unused to being the one steering others.

 

Falling back on prayer, she asks as humbly as she can for help.  She hates being helpless.  She needs someone to point her in the right direction.

 

Lost in the rote of the Chant, she lets go, wanting to capture the certainty she felt during the ritual to become a Seeker.  It has always escaped her since then.  She has often wondered if this is how the other Seekers feel.

 

Alone in the room, her back to the table containing the map of Thedas, and the door leading to the main Chantry.  Cassandra breathes in and stops.  Most Holy wore no perfume, but would bathe in a soap Leliana had made specially for her.  Soap made with the petals of Leliana’s favourite flower; Andraste’s Grace.  Subtle, you would only smell it when she stood beside you.

 

Cassandra can smell it clearly.  A presence stands behind her.  During her ritual to become a Seeker, she was filled with bliss.  Cassandra gasps as she feels it again just as clearly as she did that day.  Where it was pure faith, now it is also hope, courage, and a love so pure it brings tears to her eyes.

 

Chant forgotten she stands enraptured.

 

“Lady Cassandra,” The moment is lost as one of Leliana’s scouts walks into the room.  Like grains of sand slipping through her fingers the sensation fades away.  Yet when Cassandra looks down, the book is no longer on the side table, it is being held in her own two hands, and there are no longer any doubts in her heart.

 

“Yes Charter?”  Glancing over her shoulder, she is disappointed Most Holy is not standing there.  A pang of loss lances her heart.

 

“Sister Leliana has had a report.  The Qunari mage has been overheard telling her brother, and Varric, the Herald has just woken up,” Charter informs her.  The scout’s words triggering a rise of anticipation in Cassandra.  “Solas has apparently told the Qunari mage, he will be bringing the Herald with him, when he comes to speak with you, and Sister Leliana.”

 

“Thank you Charter,” Heart thundering in her chest, Cassandra realises this is it.  She asked for help, and this is it.  “Please inform Leliana we will have the meeting with them here.  And that it is finally time.  Today.  It starts today.”  Hands gripping the book tightly she vows not to fail in this.

 

“Yes Lady Cassandra,” Charter salutes, and backs out of the room.

 

Alone again, Cassandra breathes in, no longer able to smell the soap, but convinced beyond any shadow of a doubt, she has been sent a message.  It has finally begun.

 

Unable to see into the Fade, she is unaware of the gathering of Spirits.  Nor can she see them erase all evidence of their recent presence.  They have no wish for the Wolf to realise they are meddling.  Hope looks around one last time, and they depart the immediate area, time to sow more seeds elsewhere.


	12. To The Chantry

Solas is a surprisingly good teacher.  I’ve learnt about foot wraps, though I’m not confident I could do them just yet.  I’ve also learnt how to get my trousers on, the ones from before, with the nice quilted leather effect, and how to do them up.  I’m used to zips, Velcro, and buttons.  Thedas has a few button type things, but mostly it has laces.  Lots, and lots of fiddly laces.

 

Turns out Solas made all my clothes, so there aren’t a lot of laces on the trousers, I think I’ll be able to handle those by myself.  He also made all my underwear, from designs I’d worked out from the other time line.  I apparently disliked the breast bands most people wore, or the tight bodices nobles strapped themselves into.  And I despised the loincloths for undercarriage areas with a passion.  He didn’t go into detail, so I don’t prod at it, yet.

 

Up until now, I’ve stayed in the nightdress.  Solas said we’d do legs first, so I could see how comfortable I am with him touching me.  Only then would I know if I wanted to give him permission to continue helping for the top half.  Or that’s the gist of it, he used lots of big words, and beat around the bush a bit.

 

Since Solas is such an excellent carer I’ve agreed he can help with the top half.  “Thank you Eevee,” He pulls me into another hug.  “I treasure this trust you have given me.”

 

“Okay,” I pat his back for him.  He’s a very touchy feely kind of guy.  Also keenly aware of personal space considering all the hugging he does.  And he clearly understands, just because you’ve been given permission to do something once, doesn’t mean you can do it again, you should ask first.  If he’s any indication of people in Thedas, I’m not going to have any issues here.

 

Once my nightdress is taken off, I admit to nosily checking out my new body.  There are scars.  Less than my old body, but what really catches my attention, is the fact I have boobs.  I never really grew them in my old body.  Due to the accident, even though most of the damage was lower abdomen for internal issues, the surgeons saving my life had to make certain decisions.  I never could be bothered to go through reconstructive surgery.  It seemed fairly pointless.  I never wanted male attention.  And males only ever seemed interested in boobs, not in the person behind the boobs.

 

They’re not very big boobs on my new body.  Small little bumps really.  Curious, I give a tentative chest bounce, and they jiggle a bit.  Lifting my hands up, my new boobs are slightly larger than my palms.  Holding them in my hands, they don’t seem to weigh a lot.

 

“Do they please you vhenan?”  Solas asks as he puts aside my folded up nightdress.  “You stated you have always wanted them, but were concerned if they were too big.”

 

“I did?”  Exactly what did I leave him in those memories?

 

“Yes.  You linked them to an ideal of femininity, at least for you.”  Picking up what looks like a leather bra, he fiddles with it, adjusting bits of it.  “You described your previous body here in Thedas as ‘boyish’.  And spoke of the therapy breakthrough you had, regarding your choice not to have reconstructive healing in your world.”  Wow, I told him a hell of a lot.

 

“Oh,” I think over what he’s said.  “Does that mean I didn’t have boobs last time either?”  For some reason the idea depresses me.

 

“They were much more petite than the ones you have now,” He holds the bra out so I can slip my arms in the straps.  I don’t really want to let go of my new boobs.  Huffing I do let him put the damn bra on me.  It’s not all leather, the inside is lined with a soft type of cloth.

 

“So, no then,” I conclude, as he gave me a non answer.

 

Warm chuckling comes from behind me, as he laces me into the bra, “Ma asha, I know you think you must have them to be a woman, yet I do not understand this obsession.  To me you are the epitome of womanhood,” I flush at his praise.  “And I am glad they appear to please you so much.”

 

My tunic top is easy to get on, though there are more dreaded laces on both sides, so it will contour with my body.  I hadn’t noticed the chest humps before, Cassandra, pain, and generally being terrified were very distracting travelling up the mountain.

 

As I’m ready to go out, Solas has to get himself ready.  “Here, I made you a gift,” He hands me a soft leather something.  Sitting on the bed, which I sat on all by myself, I undo the bindings on my gift, and discover, “Crochet hooks!”  All different sized hooks, arranged from smallest to biggest, and in little holders to keep them safe and secure.  I never could get on with knitting, two sticks were two difficult for me.  A single stick with a hook on the end is far more my style.

 

“I believe the market stall in Haven will hold some yarn we can buy, however limited their choice may be at this time,” Solas has pulled his clothes off and is standing there in just a loincloth.  I clutch the leather in my hands as I openly stare at him.  He’s much more slender than human males are depicted in games.  No Dorito shaped torso here.  Some muscle definition, but not body builder level.  And holy fuck his legs are amazing.  Those are some long distance runner’s legs, with added shaping.  “Vhenan?”

 

Oh god, he’s caught me staring at him.  “Ah, I see.  And does this body also please you?  Or is this too soon for you to see male flesh?  I have no interest in intimidating or upsetting you.”

 

Mutely staring at him I have no idea what to answer with.  Love comes to my rescue, “ ** _Eevee was being curious_**.”  I nod to agree with its words.  “ ** _She did not expect you to catch her staring_** ,” Heat blooms in my face.

 

“I understand, thank you Love,” He turns away slightly, to my relief.  “MJ, I hereby verbally give you full looking, and touching, privileges to my body.  I know you will treat this access with the utmost respect.”  Picking up foot wraps he says, “I will finish dressing, set your hair for the day, and we can go to the Chantry.”

 

Clutching my crochet hooks, I try and fake being interested in them, but my eyes keep being drawn back to him.  After the footwraps he pulls his own trousers on.  Then layers two tops on.  All the time I stare and I can’t work out why.  It isn’t until his long graceful fingers are buckling the belt wrapped around his waist I work it out.  His dimensions are all wrong.  His limbs just a little too long and slender.  His torso too elongated to be human.  Killer angled cheekbones on his face are only the start.  His eyes fit along with them and appear small in his face, in a human face they’d be over large.  His chin also has those sharp lines.  Lines, he’s made up of long lines.  All throughout his body shape.  There are almost no curves on him.  His bottom lip is plumper than the top.  Oh, and his arse is the only obvious curve I’ve seen.

 

“MJ?”  He’s watching me staring it him.  “Are you well?”

 

Nodding speechlessly; I have no words.  He’s more beautiful than I realised on the mountain.  I’d like to say it’s because I was distracted, but it wasn’t until now I can see he’s picking clothes which tone it down.  This must be another reason for the ‘hobo’ outfit.  Drawing people’s eyes to his clothes, stops them noticing him, stops them seeing more than they should.

 

Hands clenched behind his back, he saunters towards me, with the strange toe to heel step he uses in some of the cut scenes.  This is a strut mixed with a sway.  There is no way anyone in the room would look anywhere but at this man, he’d draw all eyes to him.  At school, they’d take us out on occasional field trips, when I was ten, they took us to a zoo.  Behind bars, the predators moved like he does, lethal, beautiful, knowing they are far more dangerous than you’ll ever be.  I’m reminded sharply he is the Dread Wolf, and he is the most dangerous person in Haven.

 

Sitting down beside me, he reaches up to my hair.  I should be afraid of this man.  But I’m not.  At the moment he needs me because of the magic in my left hand.  Yet that isn’t the full reason why I’m not afraid of him.

 

Magic drifts around my head.  Like before when he was making breakfast, I can feel this, an extra sense I never knew I had.  A few tugs on my scalp, barely there, not even as hard as a brush going through it.  “Almost done MJ,” He says practically in my ear.  “As purple is your favourite colour, would you prefer purple in your hair today?”

 

“What?” Startled I turn to look at him, we’re so close we bump noses.  Even now my hair isn’t pulled.  I can’t have heard him right.

 

“You enjoy colouring your hair,” He says, and yeah, I love colouring my hair.  Having dark brown hair is a bitch, you have to bleach it first to get rainbow colours in it. Plus, I struggle to care for hair longer then a few inches.  I have no idea how I’m supposed to take care of hair as long as the stuff in the vision from the Temple.  “Evelyn was also a good choice, as her hair is so pale, I can change it to anything your heart desires.”  Huh?  I stare at him a bit more.  “Let me show you.”

 

More magic swirls around me.  This time he pulls his work around to where I can see it.  He’s put my hair up in a plait.  Blonde hair so pale it’s practically white sits curled in his hand.  Touching one of the three interlaced strands making up the plait with a finger he does magic of some kind.  I get to watch as it turns dark purple under his finger, and then travels out, snaking up and down my new hair.  Stunned, I know my jaw has dropped open.  He touches another of the untouched plaits, this time it turns lilac, the exact shade I love the most.

 

“Oh,” I try and absorb what the hell just happened.

 

“And this is why I believe you will allow me the privilege of caring for your hair,” He gently releases my hair, so I snatch at it.  I trace the colours amazed at the depth, clarity, and tone of them.  This is far beyond anything modern hairdressers can do; they’re limited by dyes, science, and the hair they’re working on.  Solas just gave me part of a rainbow in my hair.  “I intend to give you all the colours you’ve ever wanted, in designs you will love, and you need do nothing.  Do not answer me yet, think on this, let me prove to you I can care for you, and your hair.”

 

I really do want purple hair, and being blonde is helpful, but I’m not sure.  I want to be independent.  No, I need to be independent.  Having Solas as my own personal hair colourer, and hair tamer, is cheating.  Isn’t it?  But colours like this in my hair?  I don’t know what to do.

 

Standing up he holsters his staff on his back, and holds a hand out to me, “Come, we will go and see Cassandra, and Leliana.  Then if you are ready, we will go to the market stall, and discover what yarn is for sale,” His blatant yarn bribery works.  Taking his hand, I expect him to haul me up.  Instead he waits while I get myself up.  Meaning I let go of the soft leather case with my new hooks in, so he can ‘grab’ them with magic, and float them out of reach, safe and sound on a table.  “They will be there when we return vhenan.”

 

Jutting an elbow out, he encourages me put my hands around it, like one of those period drama gentlemen.  I’ve always wanted to be able to float along next to my beau.  I start walking by shuffling my feet, as I normally do, then realise I can walk differently.

 

I do end up needing Solas next to me, to steady me, as I adjust to walking like the average person.  This is going to take a bit of practice.  “Good, MJ.  You are making excellent progress,” Is practically crooned at me.  “Outside, I will change my shape.  I will become a Hart.  Please wait for me to lie down.  Then grasp my antler, and I will steady you as you sit side-saddle on my back.  Keep holding on as I stand.  I shall use magic to ‘glue’ you to me.”  Sounds simple enough.

 

“I know you are afraid of horses, I will go slowly for you, and I will never spook, or throw you,” He holds the door open for us to step into Haven.  Overshadowing everything, the maelstrom of the Breach defies all laws of physics, making my head hurt to even look at it.  Haven itself is blanketed in blinding snow.  I have to blink in the brightness.

 

Solas leaves me on the wooden porch, as he steps off, and moments later he’s a pure white hart.  Wide arcing antlers sweep up and out from his head.  Grey eyes with a hint of blue gaze calmly at me.  Staring at him, I look down his body, and he’s huge.  Harts don’t appear to be built like thoroughbreds, they’re more like cart horses on super growth hormones, but with added grace.  Smokey grey zebra stripes criss cross his arse.  Is there any form he’s not beautiful in?

 

Watching him lay down is fascinating.  He makes it look easy, effortless, and he’s just as magnificent when he’s down.  Love gives me a few extra instructions.  I have to step up closer to him, turn so my bottom is facing his back, and then body hug his antler.  Wrapping my arms around his huge moose like horn, I feel very small, as he’s clearly more than capable of lifting me off my feet with his antler.  Gently we manoeuvre me onto his wide back.

 

True to his word, he lets me hang onto his horn as he stands up.  Front half first, he follows on with his back half.  Magic tingles around my legs and waist, as Solas ‘holds’ me on his enormous back.  Letting go of his antler, I have no idea what to do with my hands, so I let them fall to my sides, and onto his white coat.  It feels completely different from his wolf fur.  Softer than I thought it would be.

 

Thankfully Love gives me a warning so when Solas steps forward I’m not surprised.  Though my fingers naturally try and grip his coat.  Magic glue or not, I’m fairly high up, it’s a long way to fall.

 

Neck arched, antlers out, Solas slowly walks us away from our cabin.  We’re in the same area as the game put the Herald’s cabin.  If Solas was a horse I’d be screaming.  I never took to riding as a kid, they scare me.  But this is Solas, so I tentatively trust him not to suddenly take off with me at a gallop, slam his brakes on when I least expect it, and throw me into a ditch.

 

In the game, to herd the Herald to the Chantry, the streets are lined with people.  You have to where they want you to; all other avenues are blocked, until you do the thing with Cassandra.  This time, there are people going about their business.  Though as soon as they see Solas, they stop and stare.  I don’t blame them, I’d do the same.  He’s amazing.  They also start huddling and whispering.  Some finger pointing goes on.

 

Apparently unconcerned by any of this attention, all Solas does is prick his ears up, arch his neck more, and I think he’s doing some sort of special footsteps to show off.  “ ** _He is_** ,” Faith says.  “ ** _Such displays from Harts are rare, and can not be commanded, not even by the most beloved of riders.  Either a Hart chooses to dance, or it will not_**.”  Wow, no wonder people are staring.  “ ** _It is truly a sight to behold.  After all these people have been through, to see this, it gladdens their hearts_**.”  Oh, well if it helps them, I’ll just sit here and let him do his thing.

 

From up on his back I get a good view.  This version of Haven is bigger.  Which makes sense, because it’s an actual place, not a computer generated idea of one.  More houses, a vast number of tents pitched everywhere.  Reaching the first set of steps up, I get ready to cling, but Solas increases the pressure of magic, and I don’t feel the slightest bit unsafe.  It helps his back is so wide, he’s taking it slow, and these special footsteps all seem to make riding him so smooth.  I’ve had bumpier car rides than this.

 

When he reaches the top of the steps, the sun comes out, we seem to be lucky and are in the middle the sunbeam.  Sunshine nearly always helps to lift people’s spirits.  As I’m surplus to requirements, I get to relax on Solas, whose body warmth is creeping through to my legs, and the sun’s warmth on my back is amazing.

 

**oOo**

 

His heart is relaxing.  All the tension draining out of her muscles.  Draped in sunshine, she perches on his back, her fingers idly moving in his coat.

 

As they dance through Haven they leave whispers of ‘Herald’ in their wake.  An almost unnoticed swell of emotion catches those around them as they realise she is not only awake, but here among them.  He can sense the spirits in the Fade swirl around unseen, pressing against the Veil, riding the wave of emotion.  Doing something.  He will investigate later.  His heart needs him in this moment.  Neck arched as majestically as he can make it, he dances as carefully as he can.  Few here will have ever seen a Hart perform these steps, though many will have heard of them.

 

This time his beloved will come to the Chantry, not as a terrified, stumbling woman, in cast off clothing; but as a hero of old, arriving on a dancing snow white Hart.  If he could swoop down as a griffin he would.  She will be no poor, needy, supplicant begging for scraps from the Inquisition.  She will go to them as their better.  This time they will beg her.

 

Vividly he recalls their first conversation in Haven.  She had approached his cabin, and he had launched into a pre-prepared speech, mocking her slightly as the Herald of Andraste.  He has never understood why she had smiled so brightly at his words, though when she had asked him which steed such a hero should ride, he had countered with a griffin.  A month later she had come to him, and admitted she feared their sharp beaks, so a griffin would be a bad choice for her.  Instead, she choose a Hart, as a story of a great elven king, had him riding a Hart like mount into battle to drive a scourge from the land.  She called it the Battle of Five Armies.  He had spent months scouring the Fade for hints of the story but never found it.  It is one of many things he wishes to ask her about.

 

The crest of the wave of ‘Herald’ over takes them, the people of Haven appearing as if from nowhere, to stare and wonder.  Redoubling his efforts, he gives them a spectacle to believe in.

 

**oOo**

 

Staring at the tent wall, Genevieve wallows in her misery.  She wishes she had never volunteered for duty to this Maker forsaken place.  To be offered the duty to protect the Marquis, and family, had seemed a dream come true.  How else would she ever come to such a holy place?

 

It’s not a holy place.

 

Haven is the darkest nightmare made real.  A broken sky raining demons.  Yet more demons running free, killing all everyone.  The explosion, which preceded the chaos, unimaginable.  The Marquis and family all dead.  Her utter failure of duty.

 

There is no hope.

 

There is no point.

 

Wishing only to block out everything, she tries to ignore the world outside.  Except something grabs her attention, and then she hears one word, “Herald.”  Unaware of the Spirits clustering in Haven, pushing the people to feel Hope, Faith, Love, Peace, Valour, Compassion, and many more, Genevieve finds herself standing, and leaving the tent.

 

A great number of people have gathered on the route to the Chantry.  Caught up in the growing excitement she cranes her neck trying to find out why.

 

She watches as the biggest Hart she has ever seen comes into view. He is huge.  Pure white coat.  Wickedly sharp antlers.  And for the first time she sees a Hart dance.  Even her brother, who works in the Marquis’ stables has never seen a Hart dance.  He is magnificent.  After all the horror, death, and blood, this creature moves as if Andraste herself has blessed him.  Open mouthed she can only stop and stare.  Wonder fills her.  Where he dances bright sunshine falls from the sky.  It’s as if a great weight is lifted from her shoulders.  Taking a deep breath in she feels alive for the first time in days.

 

Here is hope.

 

“Herald!  It’s the Herald of Andraste!”  A man next to her is pointing.

 

Breaking out of an almost trance like state, Genevieve spots the woman sitting side-saddle on the Hart.  Which is when she notices there’s no saddle.  No bridle.  This powerful, glorious, strong, graceful creature is controlled by nothing.  Stunned at the sight she can only gape like a weak minded idiot.  No Hart is this well trained.  They are too independent, too strong willed, no rider would dare this.

 

Yet in front of her eyes, this woman is doing just that.

 

Studying the woman, she is beautiful, an impeccable bearing, framed perfectly by her Hart.  And there, on her forehead, the mark of a Tranquil!  But this woman’s face is full of life, of kindness, not the emptiness of the Tranquil.  Around her left hand, resting on the Hart’s back is a green glow.

 

Suddenly all the stories, and rumours Genevieve’s heard, aren’t so farfetched.  They say this woman stepped out of the Fade.  The only survivor of the explosion.  She lay as still as death for days.  Then woke to save them all, by walking up the mountain, braving the demon haunted ruin of the Temple, to face the Breach.  Forcing it to fall into slumber, even as she fell into exhaustion.

 

Later Genevieve will look back on this moment and will have no idea who knelt first.  All around her, everyone kneels almost as one.  She raises her own voice along side theirs.  Together, as one, they give praise to the Maker, to Andraste for sending them Her Herald.

 

Overhead the ever present clouds part fully, leaving only blue skies, and all of Haven is bathed in light.


	13. The Inquisition Reborn

People praying like this is seriously creepy.  Thankfully, they stay on their knees, and don’t try to lynch us.  Since the court hearings for my sperm donor’s criminal trials, big crowds intimidate me.  Hiding my shiver of fear, I stay perched on Solas’ back, as he approaches the barn sized double doors of the Chantry.

 

Coming to a stop, Solas inches his arse around so we’re facing the doors.  I’m guessing this is the point where I have to get off of him.  Right now, I’m so grateful he made me practice sitting on the bed, and standing up on my own.  I just know I’m going to look like a right fucking idiot anyway.

 

“ ** _Peace_** ,” Faith says.  “ ** _The Wolf has another plan.  This will allow you some privacy to gain your feet_**.” Oh, good.  Though now I’m worried what his plan is.

 

I don’t have to wait long.

 

Taking a big breath in, Solas’ ribs expand against my legs.  And then he lets out a loud trumpeting honking sound.  WTF?  He’s exceptionally beautiful as an elf, wolf, and Hart.  And this is the horrendous sound he makes?  Kids learning to play the trumpet sound better than he just did.  Trying not to get embarrassed for him, I nearly miss the sound of the bolts on the barn style doors opening themselves.  I only notice because Solas is doing something magical to them.

 

Abruptly all the praying stops.

 

Into the eerie silence, the protesting squeals of long unused door hinges, is cacophonous, and ear piercing.  In front of us those big barn like doors shudder; dust, and snow coming off of them to float down in the air.  And then with a deep bone shaking groan they swing inwards.

 

Huh.  This is a good plan.  He can carry me into the Chantry and I can ‘dismount’ there.  Plus he doesn’t have to lie down in the snow again.  Getting his belly wet couldn’t have been fun.

 

Using those special footsteps of his, we prance towards the cavernous interior.  I’m so glad I’m not doing this alone; this place looks dark, baleful, and uninviting, especially after being out in the bright sunshine.  Thankfully some of the light puddles in through the doors, he manages to get us right in the middle, prances on the spot for a few moments, then continues in.

 

Behind us the prayers start up, louder, more fervent, if that’s possible.  And Solas does some form of magic to swing the doors closed, shutting out the crazy.  Those people out there are one pitchfork short of a mob.  I dread to think what could trigger them off.

 

Inside has even less light than I realised.  Torches on the walls splutter, and throw shadows more than they do any illumination.  Numerous candles are grouped together on the floor, flickering as bravely as they dare.  Solas’ hooves, or whatever Harts’ have, don’t clip clop very loudly, but enough I can hear he’s almost tap dancing.  I can’t feel a thing up here.  There’s no rocking or anything, this whole ride has been very smooth.

 

Gasps ring out from various women, all of them in cream and red robes, some of them wearing stupid hats.  Guess they’re not used to shape shifted ancient wolf trickster gods prancing about in their Chantry.  If the praying outside was creepy, this reaction of people pressing up against the walls is kind of funny.  I have to cough to hide my snort of laughter.

 

Through the main hall of the Chantry we go.  Doorways fill up with various people in the robes peeking out at us.  At the far end, one of the three doors opens, with Cassandra marching out, and Leliana ghosting out behind her.  Perking up, I give them both a wave.  I wish I had a camera, their faces are a picture.

 

Cassandra’s surprised, her jaw slightly sagging.  Leliana’s the same, but her expression quickly turns suspicious.  As we get closer, Leliana says, “There are no white Harts in Haven.”  Which causes Cassandra to frown, her hand falling to her sword hilt.  “Are there, Solas,” She states it calmly.

 

“I am unaware of any such Harts within Haven,” Solas says, coming to a halt in front of them.  “And were such a creature in Haven, I would not trust it with so precious a personage as my wife.”  He wouldn’t?  “Not when I am more than capable of carrying her myself.”

 

Most gasps come from the women in the doorways and holding up the walls.  Solas says, “After all, magic should serve, not rule.”  Wasn’t that a big thing in Thedas?  I vaguely remember it.  “While my wife is now awake, she is still exhausted.  We would appreciate it, if one of you could help her dismount from my back?”  We would?

 

“I will,” Leliana steps forward.  One side of her mouth curls up, “Your performance as a Hart was impeccable.  I almost didn’t realise it was you,” She says as he lowers himself down to the ground.  So this is going to be like before, but in reverse.

 

Grabbing onto his proffered horn, I body hug it, so he can gently lift me to my feet.  Leliana’s quickly by my side to steady me.  “Oh?  I was not aware I was hiding my ability to change my shape,” Solas says, patiently holding me up, waiting for me to find my feet.

 

Leliana’s arm snakes around my waist, helping me steady myself.  Letting go of his horn I wobble a bit.  This body is going to take a bit of getting used to.  In the meantime, Solas is standing up as an elf, and dusting himself down.  “Our thanks,” He tells her as his arm goes around my other side, and neither of them let go.

 

For a few seconds there’s a bit of a standoff.  I’ve never been a third wheel before, it’s not very comfortable.

 

“There she is,” A grumpy male voice cuts through the rising tension between Solas and Leliana.  “I want her readied for transport to Val Royeaux immediately.  In chains if necessary.”  I know his voice.  Roderick, Chancellor of the Chantry, storms into sight, finger wagging at me.  Two lumbering tin cans trailing behind him.

 

Both Solas and Leliana lean forward, and slightly towards each other, so they’re just in front of me, while still holding me up.  Cassandra whips round to face Roderick, “Disregard that, and leave us.”  Apparently, she was talking to the armour-clad people, as they do the chest salute thing, and then they leave.

 

“You walk a dangerous line, Seeker,” Roderick sneers at her.  He really doesn’t like her.

 

Stuck between the two most dangerous people in Thedas, I have to crane my neck, to watch Cassandra stalk towards the man, “The Breach is stable.  But it is still a threat.  I will not ignore it.”  She really doesn’t like him either.  I also never want to upset her, she really scares me when she does this voice, and she’s stroking her fingers over her sword hilt.

 

Squaring off against her, he says, “These decisions are not yours to make.  Your duty is to serve the Chantry.”  Its like watching a small yappy dog try and take on a Rottweiler.  A Rottweiler with a really big sword.

 

She isn’t taking his rebuke, and says, “My duty, is to serve the principles on which the Chantry was founded, Chancellor.  As is yours.”  Oh, burn.  Also, very good points by her.  Mentally I hold up a scorecard of ten.

 

“And hers?” He’s pointing at me.  Or it could be Leliana.  One of us, he’s pointing at one of us.  “What is the Witness’ duty?”  Ah, me.  He means me.  “To fail again?  Just as she failed earlier,” Harsh.  True, but harsh.  “The Breach is still in the sky.”

 

Nudging Solas, who is bristling like an angry cat, I murmur, “Can you tell him I’m sorry?”

 

Grey eyes with a hint of blue widen, “No, Eevee.  There is no reason for you to apologise.  You were able stabilise the Breach.  The people here in Haven, have discovered one in five of the smaller rifts closed when you attempted to close the Breach.”  They did?  Wow.  “It could so easily have killed you.”

 

I’m extremely pleased I was able to make a difference.  I’m not pleased he won’t say what I’ve asked him to.  He’s been acting like my carer.  He’s not supposed to block me and make my life harder, he’s supposed to help me.

 

“Yet she lives,” Roderick says scoffing.  “A convenient result, insofar as you’re concerned.”  This close I get to see Solas’ face, and I really wouldn’t want to be Roderick right now.  He’s upset Cassandra, and now Solas, all he needs to do is upset Leliana for a hattrick.

 

Bumping Solas I mutter, “Please tell him, I am sorry.  I hope I get the opportunity to try again.  Though I don’t know how to change the outcome.  I’m not strong enough to close the Breach by myself.”

 

“Vhenan,” Solas says almost pleadingly.  His ears are tight against his head.  “Please.”  I don’t break eye contact.  Sighing heavily, he does repeat my words.  I can only hope his refusal to talk for me doesn’t become an issue in the future.

 

No one seems to know how to answer me.  Which was the point.  Instead of escalating the situation, I’ve deescalated it.  Around us whispers from the women pick up as they listen to this fight.  The sound of their soft voices catches Roderick’s attention, and he can’t seem to leave it alone, “So you say, how do we know you didn’t plan for it to happen this way?”

 

“Have a care Chancellor,” Cassandra barges in between me and him.  “The Breach is not the only threat we face.”

 

Tagging in, Leliana says, “Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave.  Someone Most Holy did not expect.”  She’s right.  One of the seven Magisters from Chantry Lore would be unexpected.  “Perhaps they died with the others – or have allies who yet live.”  Well he survived, and he’s got lots of allies we’ll end up having to fight.

 

To give him credit, Roderick picks up her insinuation straight away, “I am a suspect?”  He doesn’t react well.  He’s probably really bad at murder mystery dinners too.

 

“You,” Leliana confirms.  “And many others.”  Shock comes from our robed audience members.  Should we really be having this conversation out here?  I’m fairly sure this counts as a high level meeting, and those should be behind closed doors.  Or does Thedas do things differently?

 

Stepping closer to us, he asks, “But not the Witness?”  I’d put me at the top of the suspect list too.  Fell out of the Fade, just happens to have the one thing that can close the rifts?  Very suspicious.

 

Drawing herself up Cassandra says, “I heard the voices in the Temple.  The Divine called to her for help.”

 

Not buying any of it, Roderick says, “So her survival.  That thing on her hand, all a coincidence?”  Huh, so he’s not just a paper pushing, following orders kind of guy, he can think for himself.  That’s interesting, considering all he’s been doing is pushing of a new Divine to think for him.

 

“Providence,” Cassandra says, her voice filling with something.  “The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour.”  I’m fairly sure he didn’t.  I don’t think god works like that.

 

Everyone stares at me.  I press against Solas’ side not liking the attention.  Solas breaks the tension saying, “Whilst I would be the first to sing my wife’s many praises.  Eevee is not Andraste.  But through Andraste have we not learnt, ‘Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide.”  A sigh rustles through the Chantry.  I don’t get why that quote is so great, but whatever, it works for them.

 

It works so well, Cassandra’s face softens, “We lost everything.  Then out of nowhere, you came.”  Well, I was in the dungeons, I don’t think that counts as out of nowhere.

 

“The Breach remains,” Leliana says.  “And your mark, Eevee, is still our only hope of closing it.”  As she’s speaking to me, I have to pay attention to her.  Cassandra’s wandered off, through the door they came out of.

 

Arms crossed, Roderick refuses to stay out of this, stating, “This is not for you to decide.”  Didn’t he say that earlier?  I’m sure he said something similar.

 

Suddenly Cassandra’s back, brandishing a big book, “You know what this is, Chancellor.”  She doesn’t wait for him to answer, “A writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act.”  Her voice rises, reaching everyone listening in, “As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn.”  Another sigh ruffles the Chantry.  “We will close the Breach.  We will find those responsible.  We will restore order.  With or without your approval.”

 

Stumbling back from her, Roderick leaves, almost fleeing in his haste to get away.  Leliana watches him go, and then says, “This is the Divine’s Directive: rebuild the Inquisition of old, find those who will stand against the chaos.”  Pausing she shakes her head, “We aren’t ready.  We have no leader.  No numbers.  And now no Chantry support.”

 

“But we have no choice,” Cassandra takes over the speech.  “We must act now.  With you by our side.”

 

“If you are truly trying to restore order,” Solas trails off, sounding hesitant.

 

Leliana says, “That’s the plan.”

 

Solas’ free hand comes up to cup my face.  We end up with our foreheads pressed together.  “Vhenan?  What do you wish to do?”  And he’s back to being an epic carer.

 

“I want to help,” I tell him.  Plus we need the Inquisition to help us do everything.  Don’t we?

 

“We will stay and help,” Solas says for us both, voice carrying.  Excited whispering starts up, even as Solas and Cassandra shake hands.

 

In the game I’m sure there’s a cutscene.  In reality we get shunted off into a side room.  Solas and Leliana keep me upright as I walk between them.  There’s a bed in there.  They seem to think I need to lie down and rest.


	14. Spinning A Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many 'Thank You's to everyone who has read this story, left a kudos, a comment, bookmarked, or subscribed. You really do help me keep going. You are all amazing.

Abandoned, left to languish all alone in the corner of the room; in the big comfy chair, by the roaring fire, with a soft blanket over my legs, I entertain myself, by watching Solas and Leliana have the politest fight I’ve ever seen.

 

They never raise their voices.  They compliment each other all the time.  Yet you could cut the tension in the room with a knife.  Except, I don’t want to add a knife into this equation, I’m scared what they’d do with it.  A few poor servants are scurrying around them, they know a fight is in full swing, and they’re trying their best to stay out of it.

 

Using the excuse of getting the bed ready for me to rest on, they go to battle over every little thing in the room.  Since I hate confrontation, and I don’t want to have a nap, I leave them to it.  The longer it takes, the better.  Right now, they’re discussing how to put the pillows and cushions on the bed, to give me the best back, neck, and head support.

 

What is really interesting is all the things they’re not saying.  Thankfully I have a few people willing to explain most of it to me.  “ ** _There_** ,” Wisdom says.  “ ** _Solas is using a particular turn of phrase, and holding his body, in a way reminiscent of a slave from Tevinter_**.”  I have no idea why he keeps doing that.  “ ** _Solas was originally born into slavery_** ,” It tells me.  He was?  “ ** _Yes.  He grew up a slave_**.”  It’s hard to imagine Solas as a slave, he’s so damn strong willed and independent.  “ ** _Yes, he is.  He was very fiery in his youth, quick to anger, first to leap into action, he reacted strongly to even the smallest of slights._** ”  Wow.  You wouldn’t know it looking at him now.  “ ** _His lessons were harsh ones, he learnt many things the hard way_**.”  Ouch.  Life lessons are never easy things to come to grips with.  Thankfully I didn’t learn all of mine the hard way, some of them I learnt by listening to others, or from various fictions, even some therapy sessions.

 

As fascinating as learning about him is, it still doesn’t tell me why he’s mimicking a slave from Tevinter.  Faith chimes in saying, “ ** _Before, his story of a lone wandering elf, born in a village from the north, would cause little concern.  He would simply be one of many joining the Inquisition.  Now he needs a better story for Thedas to hear.  He cannot tell them the whole truth.  He must tell them only parts, and let them assume the rest.  An elf, extremely well educated, trained to a high level in magic, clearly used to battle, and with a commanding attitude?  Who also claims to have married the Herald of Andraste?  Such a person will catch the attention, and scrutiny, of many_**.”  Okay that kind of makes sense.

 

But why Tevinter?

 

Turning it over in my head, I try and figure it out for myself.  Lining up all the things I know about Thedas, I have to factor in his race, his magic, and people’s attitudes.  Puzzling through it, I start to put it together.  He’s an elf.  So for many he’s a second class citizen, if he even registers as person to them at all.  Meaning the only places he could gain any kind of education would be in a Dalish clan, notably lacking in the higher levels of scholarly learning Solas has, due to being too busy simply staying alive, fending off attacking humans, and feeding the Clan, or, in a country that values all mages, because they rule it; so of the two, Tevinter would be a good fit.  As a mage, even an elven one, he would have had some social standing.  They would have taken the time to educate him.  If he was smart enough, and a good political player, I’m guessing he would been ‘rewarded’ more than the average non-mage.  Not as much as a human mage, but there would have been incentives, very lucrative ones to an ex-slave.

 

How does that tie in with being used to battle?  Oh, yeah, they’re at war with the Qun.  Any battle training he has could easily be explained away by that.  Though will he be able to hand wave away the commanding attitude?  “ ** _Yes_** ,” A new voice says.  “ ** _I am Valour_** ,” She/It sounds familiar.  “ ** _I am using the voice you heard as a teenager in the hospital.  The actor played Wonder Woman in the Justice League cartoons_**.”  I loved those cartoons.  Plus, Wonder Woman kicks arse.  Never afraid to stand up to people, even if those people were friends and family.  “ ** _Her valour is strong in your mind.  Yet she does not use it against the defenceless, many could learn from her story_**.”  All too true.

 

Dragging my mind back on track, I try to refocus on the angle Solas is going for, and how it would explain his commanding attitude.  I don’t have to wait long, Valour explains, “ ** _In Tevinter, mages rule.  Even elven ones can gather scraps of influence.  If this story were true, he would have been given command of troops, supply lines, transport, and battles.  Once such a person proved their mettle, they would gain support and power, but if they shone too brightly, they would be forced to flee, or be eliminated_**.”  Which gives the Solas in the story he’s weaving, the perfect reason to have left Tevinter.  “ ** _Exactly_**.”

 

Smart.

 

It covers nearly everything.  Except according to Faith, people are going to pick into his past.  There’s nothing to back it up.  We’re going to be fighting the Venatori, not Tevinter itself.  Information in Tevinter will be available for people to dig up.  “ ** _Solas has taken steps_** ,” Valour says.  “ ** _As with yourself, he has stolen the identity of the dead. Ectorius belonged to the Regulus family, before being freed, and then owed them his freedom.  He did not make it out of Tevinter, he is buried there.  Some memories have been altered.  Some documents changed.  When the Nightingale goes hunting, she will find all the evidence needed to corroborate this story.  There will be no loose ends for her to unravel_**.  **_We have also added our own embellishments.  Solas must give them every reason to make him Inquisitor, else they will pick you, and we have a different path for you_**.”  They do?

 

One by one, the Spirits take turns telling me his fabricated backstory.  He’s going with born into slavery, as it’s true, just in the wrong era, and the wrong empire.  He worked on his owner’s land, in the fields, also true.  Until the night he Dreamed for the first time.  When he woke up, things around him occasionally set themselves on fire, due to him getting angry, usually when his mother was hit by a supervisor, again true to life.  Identified as a mage, he was freed, educated, and indebted to his former owner, not true to life, in reality; he was identified as a mage, taught to control it, kept a slave, and lived in his owner’s palace.  They won’t tell me what happened to him there, just that he needs to tell me himself.

 

Things diverge massively at this point.  They only tell me the fabricated bits.  Fictional Solas was thrown at the war effort against the Qun.  He floundered a little.  Slaves are taught to be meek, to submit, to never fight.  He had to override his conditioning to be able to command, dominate, fight, conquer, and win.  With small victories came greater challenges, and higher standing.  Gaining renown, respect, power, and riches, he made huge strides into Tevinter society itself.  To the point some families considered marrying a daughter to him, which was previously unheard of.  No elf had ever made it so high or shone so brightly.

 

And then came terrible news.  His mother, still a slave, but purchased by this version of Solas, and free in all but name, had died.  An epidemic had swept through Tevinter, killing the old and the young.  Weak, from all her years underfed, and overworked, she had succumbed to the disease.

 

I know this is only a story, but it’s tugging at my heartstrings right now.  I just want to hug the guy.  This sucks.  He did all that and his mum still died on him?  This is terrible.  I demand a rewrite.

 

Distracting me, they weave the rest of the fabricated history for me.  His rivals, jealous, and afraid of him, along with the Magisters, worried at his unprecedented rise, conspired to have him assassinated.  Nearly dying at their hands, he faked his own death, and fled Tevinter.

 

Fuck the lot of them.

 

Now I’m mad at Tevinter.  Well I was angry at them anyway, for being the horrible people they are, but now I’m really mad.  Still very aware this is all made up, I have my mental fingers crossed for Solas.

 

Lost, wandering aimlessly, he slept at various forgotten elvhen ruins.  Ones dating back to before Tevinter.  There he discovered how to change his shape, and more importantly, he found a reason to live.  Now he travelled with greater purpose, seeking out places he could hibernate for the winter, as a great bear, and spend uninterrupted months in the Fade.  There he could walk the Fade, finding fragments of dreams and memories.  And let his inner Fade nerd out to play and frolic to his heart’s content.

 

At the end of one of those winter hibernations, he woke to find a small mouse in his cave.  And this is where he’s saying he met me.  With a bear’s nose he knew the fictional me wasn’t a real mouse.  Plus there was a pile of fish bones that hadn’t been there when he fell asleep.  I feel the real clue the mouse was not a mouse, was when the mouse turned into a bird and flew away from him.  For some reason fictional me stuck around.  A little brown bird following him, flitting from branch to branch, as he forged for food and started eating again after the winter.  Even though he spoke to Spirits, he was lonely, and started speaking to the bird, though she never spoke back.

 

One morning he woke up to find a fish cooking on the fire.  Two plates nearby.  And sitting next to them was the mouse.  She turned into a human.  One with the mark of a Tranquil.  From that day on we’ve been inseparable.

 

“ ** _Such a beginning mimics reality_** ,” Love says.  “ ** _Before, it was you who sought Solas out.  First, for companionship, both of you lonely as you were living lies, in a world not your own.  Then for growing friendship, as you came to know each other, as much as anyone living undercover can.  Finally, you each fell in love_**.”  Okay, that’s actually sweet, but I still don’t know the real Solas.  This whole Thedas thing is still not completely real to me.  “ ** _We are aware.  And he is aware.  This is why he is first attempting to be your carer and friend.  From such humble beginnings, he hopes a deeper friendship will bloom, and one day, love may grow in your heart for him_**.”

 

A crash has me startling in my seat.  One of the servants has dropped a tray.  She’s standing there shaking, shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around her.  “Sorry,” Is stuttered out of her.  “I didn’t mean,” She breaks off, “I’m so sorry, please, I’m sorry.”  My heartstrings tug for her this time.

 

Looking around at everyone else, because I can’t go to her, to comfort her and help her.  I’m stunned to see all the servants cowering.  They look terrified.  Leliana’s standing like she’s going to kung fu someone, with a dagger in either hand.  Solas’ stance isn’t much different, but his staff is in his hands, the end glowing dully.  There’s something in the air, like the calm before the storm, violence barely leashed.

 

Suddenly Solas holsters his staff.  “Da’len?  Are you well?”  Moving slowly towards the trembling servant, he holds his hands out to her.  “Child?  Did you hurt yourself?”

 

I don’t think she heard him, all she does is shake so hard I’m surprised I can’t hear her teeth rattling, “I didn’t mean to.  I’m sorry.  Please.  I’m sorry.”

 

Nodding, he softly says, “I understand.  It was an accident.”  Of course it was an accident.  What else would it be?  Why is she reacting so badly?  “There is no harm done to the tray, or the things it carries,” He’s soothing her and inching closer.  I’m reminded of programs with injured animals, where the person has to be careful how they approach, in case the animal bolts. “But were you harmed?  Are you well?”

 

Is she in shock?  She’s not acting right.  Solas must have picked up on it too.  He leads her, gently, to a chair and has her sit down.  Then he collects the tray, the things on it magically fixing themselves, to show her all is well.  It seems to calm her down.  “See da’len, there is no problem.  All is well.”

 

Tension leaks out of the room.  The other servants are relaxing.  She’s still shaking, but might be calming down as Solas continues to sooth her.  I don’t understand.  It was just an accident.  “ ** _Look to her ears child_** ,” Wisdom says, so I do look at her ears.  They point.  So what?  I still don’t get it.  “ ** _The only rounded ears in this room, are yours, and Leliana’s_** ,” It’s trying to tell me something.  “ ** _You truly do not see it_** ,” It sounds surprised, and happy?  “ ** _I am indeed happy you see them as people first, and elves second.  Perhaps I am explaining this wrong.  Consider their skin colour, if their skin was dark, and this was Earth, how would you interpret these proceedings?_** ”

 

Trying to do what it says, I mentally rerun the events.  And then I want to facepalm for being so stupid.  I’d just worked out why Solas was trying to get them to think he came from Tevinter.  I’d found out he was born a slave.  But it didn’t really mean anything, because it was an intellectual exercise, only it does mean something.  Their ears mark them as lesser.  Thedas is as racist as Earth.  Only it’s not based on colour here, it’s based on your ear shape, your height, and whether or not you have horns.

 

Feeling sick at witnessing the end result of such ingrained racial hatred, I’m glad Solas stepped in the way he did.  He’s calmed her, and everyone else, down.  I can only hope she’s starting to accept she won’t be beaten for this.  In Earth’s history, humans are fucking evil bastards to each other.  I dread to think what they’ve done to the elves.

 

In short order Solas has taken charge of the servants, Leliana isn’t fighting him anymore, and the room is soon ready for me to take a nap.  I might not want the nap, but I do want the hug I hope Solas is offering with the nap.  He’s so careful when he dismisses the servants, lets them know they’ve done a good job; he’s pleased, no one’s angry.  The woman who dropped the tray is recovering, and one of the other women helps her out of the room.  I hope they’ll comfort her more where we can’t see.  Let her have a bit of privacy without prying eyes poking at her.

 

“Our thanks Leliana,” Solas says, as he helps me to my feet.  Seriously this new body is very weird.  My hands are shaking for some reason.  Though I’m worried how long it’s taking me to adapt to it.  Am I doing something wrong?

 

To my surprise, she comes over to us, and takes my other arm, letting me lean on her too.  “No, Solas, thank you,” She says it with a smile.  The same smile she gave me in the dungeons.  Her face is making all the right movements, she looks like she’s happy, until you look in her eyes.  Ice cold.  Calculating.  And once again, I’m stuck between two of the most dangerous people in Haven, maybe even in the world.

 

Together they cooperate to get me on the bed.  They make a good team.  I’m soon ensconced on top of the covers, supported by perfectly placed pillows and cushions, and the warm blanket settled over me.  My manners kick in at this point, “Thank you.”  It’s reflex to do this and smile at my carer, or carers in this case.  I am genuinely thankful for their help.  I don’t know how to do this for myself yet.  I am going to learn how to do this, and soon.  I want my independent back.

 

Her hand pats my arm, “I am happy to help you.”  I don’t believe her.  “Rest.  Please.  Get better.”

 

“Okay,” I nod to her, just like I do the doctors.  See I’m a good little patient.  No insubordination or mutiny here.

 

With the minimum of fuss, she’s soon gone, and Solas lounges over my legs.  In the blink of an eye, he’s a wolf, so I can worm my hands out from under the blanket, and into his fur.  Fussing him, I can feel myself start to relax.  He lets me get away with petting him, and then he moves to sprawl next to me, “And now you may rest vhenan.”  I must screw my face up, as he says, “Even if you do not sleep, meditate.”  I can do that.  “I will be here the whole time.  You are safe.  I will let no harm come to you.”

 

“ ** _We would like to learn ‘Mindfulness’ from you_** ,” Valour says.  “ ** _We have seen this in your mind and believe it may help us_**.”  I have no idea how it would help them, but I’m willing to teach them.  I can meditate at the same time.  And hopefully get Solas hugs.  “ ** _Ask him for a hug.  He will give it happily.  It will help him too_**.”  It will?  “ ** _Yes._** ”  Fine.  If it helps him too.

 

“Okay,” I agree to him and them.  “As much as I love petting you,” Screwing up my courage I ask, “Can I have a hug?  If it’s okay?”

 

My hands are suddenly on his elven neck, “Ma nuvenin.”  He gives me a kiss on the forehead, and we have to wiggle around a bit, so I can lay on my right side, with my head pillowed on his chest.  In the movies, this always looked uncomfortable, how could it be this nice?  One of my arms is slung over his belly, and his fingers have laced in with mine.  His other arm is pressed against my back, keeping me tucked close to him.

 

Safe, warm, comfortable I find my eyes fluttering shut.  I start to meditate, letting the Spirits see what I’m doing.  “ ** _Ah, I begin to see_** ,” Wisdom says, “ ** _This will be useful for us.  To experience an emotion, yet let it pass through us, without changing us_**.”  In the game, Solas was very intense about people hurting Spirits by changing them into Demons.  “ ** _Exactly_**.”  Pleased I’m being so helpful, I carry on the lesson.  It’s good to be able to give back for once.

 

**oOo**

 

The briefest shake of her head, and her agents melt into the background.  They will not be needed to drag the weakened ‘Herald’, and husband, to the dungeons for questioning.  Leliana gained some very useful information from the pair just now.  They even passed her test.  No other noble, except for Josie, ever has.  It bodes well for the Inquisition.

 

A quirk of her lips, a flick of her fingers, and the ‘frightened servant woman’ is gone, in her place a highly trained and skilled agent.  The woman has endured many a beating from nobles failing Leliana’s test.  A full report will be waiting for her as soon as she gets out of this meeting.  If there is anything she missed, Nessa will have noted it.

 

Mentally she makes notes of the more obvious leads needing to be chased down and verified.  There are many of them.  They include an escaped Tevinter slave in a love match to a human mage?  Where said slave is an expert in the Fade?  And deadly on the battlefield?  As well as an excellent player of the Game with how well he just kept her at bay ‘tending’ to the ‘Herald’, and his opening gambit of a dancing white Hart was masterful.  After such an entrance, how could Eevee be anything but the ‘Herald’ of Andraste?  And the ‘Herald’ herself, a Tranquil, who has broken the Rite without being possessed?  A healer so skilled, her husband could give easy instructions, to the point they have lost almost no casualties to wound rot, or Demon venom?  And the elf, clearly the dominant member of their pairing, whilst the human was clearly happy in her submissive role?  Finally, both of them are shapeshifters, where did they learn that skill?  Morrigan learnt from her mother Flemeth, yet neither Solas, nor Eevee, are Witches of the Wild.  If Eevee can shapeshift, why was she caught by the Templars?  Perhaps being in such an advanced stage of pregnancy complicated matters? 

 

So many questions.

 

So many mysteries.

 

She will get to the bottom of all of them, and more.  There will be no secrets they can hide from her.  She will learn everything about them.  If they had even the slightest touch of a hand in murdering Most Holy, Leliana will ensure they pay dearly for their crime.

 

Stepping into the meeting room, Cassandra, Cullen and Josie are all waiting for her.  “Sorry I’m late.  There was a pressing matter needing my attention.”  Pinning her work smile of her face, she lets the door close behind her.


	15. Achievement Failed: Recruitment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long, this chapter really didn't want to be written.

“Don’t do it Puppy,” Varric says, partly hidden by a tree, Herah beside him, both trying to blend in with the snowy surroundings.

 

Gritting his teeth, Kaaras ignores the stupid nickname, “They’ve been in there for hours Varric.”  Anything could have happened in that time.  “The Seeker, the Commander, and the Nightingale, they’ve all come and gone, several times.”  And they have.  “They even gave the big speech about the Induction thing.”  All three of them standing in front of the Chantry, whipping the soldiers, and the scouts, well the human ones anyway, into a religious frenzy.

 

Eevee and Solas aren’t soldiers, or scouts.  And only Eevee’s human.  The Chantry doesn’t like anyone who isn’t human, religious, or non-magical.  They’re both shit of out of luck on most of it.  Especially the magic.

 

“Inquisition Pup.  The Seeker said Inquisition,” Varric inches out from behind the tree, enough to motion him closer.  “My advice?  Stay out of this.  The moment humans catch religion, is the moment they start burning things.”  Looking away from him Varric won’t meet his eyes, “Mouse should be fine.  They think she’s sent by Andraste.  And she’s human.”

 

“And Solas?” Kaaras asks, already knowing the answer.  Varric won’t answer him, or look at him, he already knows the answer too.  “Fuck,” Kaaras rubs his hand over his face.

 

“Leave it be little brother,” Herah says, from her hiding place next to Varric.  All three of them are standing to one side of the Chantry, near one of the servant’s entrances.  “There’s nothing we can do.  We have to leave Haven, now, before the humans turn on us.”  She’s right.  Most of the time, humans are too afraid of them to do more than throw insulting words.  But now?  Now, there’s a big fucking hole in the sky, everyone is afraid, and anyone not human is an easy target.

 

He should leave.

 

Flee Haven like the others are planning to do.

 

Tonight, most of non-humans, not bound by contract, and even some that are, are going to run.  To try and get as far from this place as possible. To try and survive just one more day.  Thedas is sliding into deeper and ever more terrifying chaos every day.  There’s nothing he can do to stop it.  Only escape while he still can.

 

Turning away from the Chantry he goes to take a step and finds he can’t.  “No.  Fuck.  I can’t just leave them.”  Turning back, he makes up his mind, “I’m going in to find them.”

 

“Pup, no,” Varric’s normal mask cracks, fear and terror peeking out of his face.

 

“No, Kaaras, you can’t,” Herah hurries over to grab his arm, and pull him into a hug.  “They’ll kill you slow if you go in there.  Please.  Don’t.”  Her arms are tight around him.  “I can’t bury your ashes too,” Her words slam into him making it hard to breathe.  He’s never going to stop missing their older brother.  He’ll never get the sound of their mother’s scream when she heard the news out of his head.

 

“You won’t,” He pats her back, and then untangles himself from her.  If he’s caught, there probably won’t be a body left to burn.  “I’m not going to be long.  I’m getting in, finding them, and getting out.  No heroics.  I promise,” He lies to her, knowing full well he’ll try something to rescue them.

 

“Shit, Puppy, don’t,” Varric’s all the way out from behind the tree.  “Come on kid.  Don’t do anything stupid.  You don’t mess with humans when they’re this stirred up.  Trust me Pup, it never ends well.”

 

Ignoring them both, he strides towards the side door.  When he reaches it, he readjusts himself.  Shoulders slumped, knees saggy, feet dragging, face dumber than a bag of rocks.  He’s just a big stupid ox.  He’s been given a message to give to the Herald, or her husband Solas.  He has every right to be here.

 

Opening the door, he steps inside the Chantry.  He’s glanced inside these places before, the human part is usually really ornate, covered in gold leaf, smells of incense and filled with soft chanting.  This side looks like any servant area.  Plain, dimly lit, and full of scurrying elves.  Except the elves aren’t scurrying, they’re huddled in a big group, whispering.

 

Too late to back out now, he approaches the group, who break up and turn to stare at him.  “Message for the Herald,” He pitches his voice low, monotone, and as dull as he can make it.

 

Expecting them to try and take the ‘message’ off him, he’s shocked when they go back into a huddle.  A female voice says, “I told you.  I told you she was different.”  More furious whispering goes on, he can’t quite work it out, and it gets very heated.

 

At a loss for what to do, he wonders if he should make a break for it, though he’s got no idea if he should run for the exit, or deeper into the Chantry.  This religion stuff really messes with people’s heads.

 

The huddle breaks up and a male elf walks up to him, “If you will follow me.  I’ll show you to the Herald.  Her husband is attending her.  Be warned he’s a powerful mage.  And be careful of your feet, don’t break anything in the Chantry.”  The man looks behind Kaaras, “Are they with you?”

 

They who?  Twisting his head, he sees Herah and Varric, with identical looks on their faces.  They really don’t want to be here.  He doesn’t want his sister anywhere near this madness either, except her magic is pretty potent, and Varric’s proved to be a very slippery talker.  His odds of survival are higher with them.  “Yeah, they’re with me.  And the message.  For the Herald.”

 

More whispering from the other servants, as the man leads them out of the room, Kaaras really wishes he knew what the fuck was going on.  Training kicks in as he follows the elf, memorising the route is easy, spotting the defensive and ambush areas is second nature now.  He’s confident they can fight their way out if they need to.

 

Their guide takes them boldly out into the main Chanty areas, and the looks of scorn start getting thrown their way.  This is going to go badly any second.  When the man stops outside the door opposite the dungeon entrance, Kaaras admits he gets nervous.  A few knocks on the door and the servant says, “Ser Solas, a messenger for the Lady Herald.”

 

Silence.

 

Sick to his stomach, Kaaras gathers himself to run, and then Solas calls out, “Please bid them enter.”  He’s not the only one to breathe out in relief, he can hear Herah and Varric do the same.

 

Door opened for them, by the helpful servant, the three of them troop in, to find a nice cosy noble’s room.  Curled up on the bed are Eevee and Solas.  She’s blinking sleepily.  Solas has snapped wide awake.  “Thank you,” Solas smiles at the servant, who gives a deep bow, salutes, and backs out of the room, closing the door behind them.

 

Since both mages are clearly alive and well, Kaaras feels like a complete fool.  He’s just risked his life, his sister’s live, and Varric’s life for nothing.  “Fuck,” He rubs his hand over his face, and decides he’s going to stop making dumb decisions.  He’s going to leave tonight with the others, while he still can.

 

**oOo**

 

I know Herah said the others were fine, but being able to see Varric, and Kaaras, eases any worries I had.  Varric even meanders over to the fireplace making himself at home on the chair I used.  “Pup here was worried about you two.  Wanted to make sure you were both okay.”  He did?  “Couldn’t let the kid come in on his own, so Jinx and me kept him company.”

 

Kaaras looks a bit trapped, so I nudge Solas and ask him to tell Kaaras thank you.  “My wife and I,” Solas says as he helps me sit up properly.  “Would like to say thank you.  That you would risk entering a Chantry for us, means a great deal.”

 

Huh?  Why would entering a church be risky?  Is this another ear thing?  “ ** _Yes_** ,” Love says going on to explain, “ ** _The Chantry as a whole, frowns on those not fully human, who are gifted with magic, and without gold to buy Chantry favour_**.”  I have no words for how wrong that is.  On Earth they want you to come in.  They welcome tourists of all kinds.  “ ** _Once, your places of worships were also less welcoming.  Once, only the desired moneyed few could enter_**.”  Fuck, it’s right.  Churches and their officials used to be arseholes.  Some of them still are.

 

Waving a hand, as if to wave the ‘thank you’ away, Kaaras says, “I, well we, couldn’t just leave you in here.”  Is he embarrassed at being caught caring?  Men are so weird.  “Especially as we’re all leaving tonight.”  What?  Why are they leaving?

 

“Ah,” Solas has gotten me to the point I’m sitting with my legs over the side of the bed, so he settles next to me, arm around my back, supporting me.  “I had wondered when the exodus would begin.”  I don’t get it.  What are they talking about?

 

“Yeah,” Herah leans against the wall.  “We’re all packed.  Everyone who can is going tonight.”  Who?  Who is going?  Where are they going?  What’s going on?

 

“Safety in numbers,” Solas seems to know what the fuck is happening.  “The humans cannot hope to catch you all, some of you will escape.”  What humans?  I don’t get it.

 

“That’s the plan Chuckles,” Varric’s legs dangle off the chair and he’s frowning.  “Mouse is safe, for now, but you’re going to have to watch your back.  The humans are all stirred up.  You know how they get.”  Does he mean the humans here?  In the Inquisition?

 

“I am aware,” Solas nods.  “Though, we thank you for your warning.  At the moment Cassandra, and Leliana, appear to need us both.  They are being extremely accommodating.”

 

Shaking his head Varric predicts, “It won’t last.  Watch the Seeker, she has a temper, and she’ll stab you in the book.  As for Leliana, she’s crazy with grief right now.  I don’t think there’s anything she won’t do to get what she wants.”  Pausing he tilts his head, “Curly’s not too bad, he’s gotten his head out of his ass, mostly.  Not sure how this religion thing is going to hit him.  Maybe try to stick to him.  Hawke liked him.”

 

“Curly?” Solas queries.  “Ah, you mean Cullen.  I have already had a few dealings with the Commander.  He is as limited in his thinking as most Southern Templars.  Though less prone to stabbing.”

 

“That’s another thing Chuckles,” Varric cuts in, sitting up straight, with none of his usual humour on his face.  “Be more careful.  The humans here aren’t stupid.  It won’t take them long to work out you’re originally from Tevinter.”  Beside me Solas stiffens.  I thought he wanted them to think he’s from Tevinter?

 

“It seems we owe you our thanks once again,” Solas says, he presses more tightly against me.  “My past is not normally an issue, as it doesn’t bother Eevee, and most do not know how to spot the signs.”

 

Getting to his feet, Varric strolls over, “I’m not most people Chuckles.  And neither is the Nightingale.”  He holds his hand out to him, “Good luck Chuckles.  You’re going to need it.”  They shake hands.  This feels like goodbye.  But Varric’s part of the Inquisition.  He’s part of the Inner Circle.  Because of him Hawke comes to Skyhold, we learn about the Magister darkspawn they fought; we need him.

 

“Good luck, and safe travels to you too Varric Tethras,” Solas isn’t telling him to stay, he’s shaking Varric’s hand.  “Perhaps when the Breach is closed we may meet again.”  No, this is wrong.  Varric belongs in the Inquisition.

 

“If you and Mouse are ever in Kirkwall, look me up,” Varric steps back.  This feels very final.  This feels like it’s unchangeable.  “Though right now, Kirkwall doesn’t feel like it’s far enough away from all this crazy shit.”

 

Herah laughs, “Nowhere on Thedas is going to be far enough away from this crazy shit.”  She moves closer to us, “Well, I’d say it’s been fun, but I’d be lying.  You two ever get out of this alive, look our mercenary group up, we could do with a healer like Eevee,” She pauses.  “You can join too Solas,” She tags on, but she’s smiling, so I don’t think she means it nastily.

 

“You are too kind,” Solas goes to shake her hand, but she pulls him up off the bed, and wraps him in a bear hug.

 

“I know,” Herah gives him another squeeze.  “My family say the same thing all the time.”

 

Wrapping his arms around her Solas hugs her back, “I believe you are exaggerating, and they say less flattering things.”  His words make Kaaras and Varric laugh.  Even Herah’s smiling.

 

This is all wrong.

 

“ ** _They are right to worry_** ,” Valour says.  “ ** _They are in grave danger should they stay_**.”  I don’t understand.  These people fought to get me up to the Breach.  I’m alive because of them.  “ ** _Yes, you are.  You owe them your life_** ,” And I don’t doubt it.  “ ** _Yet there are forces at work, which are ingrained into Thedas, and they will push them far from you_**.”

 

Is racial hatred for those not human really this strong?

 

“ ** _Yes_** ,” Wisdom says sadly.  “ ** _It is hard for any society to be inclusive, for the members of that society must work hard to understand those different from themselves.  It is easier to be ignorant, to hate, to destroy_**.”  I wish it was wrong.  I wish things were different.  “ ** _We have seen some of Solas’ memories of the other time line.  Those who did not flee died of their injuries.  In less than ten days, only you and he remained.  Leliana was left with no choice but to send her elven scouts far from Haven.  Even Solas, he who was known to have saved your life from the Mark, was attacked.  You were forced to move him into your cabin to protect him_**.”

 

Fuck.  That’s not good.  That’s really not good.  And nothing like the game portrays it.

 

Valour snorts, “ ** _You missed out the part where Eevee herself was attacked_**.”  I was?  “ ** _Yes, badly enough the Hinterlands was delayed, as Solas struggled to save your life_**.”  My blood runs cold as its words.  The Mark is supposed to keep me safe in Haven.  “ ** _Your rapists were never punished by the Inquisition_** ,” I can’t seem to grasp what it just said.  Oh god.  Please tell me it just lied to me.  I never want to go through that again.

 

“ ** _You are safe_** ,” Love says, with a sense of muscling its way up to me.  “ ** _Valour is correct, such an attack did happen.  It was the final incident which caused you to abandon the Inquisition, and travel to the Hinterlands, with only Solas as company_**.”  I did what?  Me?  I did that?  “ ** _There you found Mother Giselle, and Varric. He had been unable to travel any further due to the chaos on the roads.  You convinced him, and many others, mostly elves, and dwarves to join your version of the Inquisition.  That is the moment the Inquisition was truly born_**.”

 

Whoa.  I can’t believe I did something as radical as ditching the Inquisition and made my own rebel one.  Running away I understand, it’s the convincing people to join my Inquisition I don’t get.  “ ** _You are more capable than you realise_** ,” Faith settles near me.  “ ** _No longer limited by the pain of your broken body, you will discover the heights you can rise to_**.”  Okay, it’s making me sound awesome, but right now, I’m powerless to help people.  I can’t protect these three people who are planning on running.  And it sounds like I can’t protect myself or Solas here in Haven either.

 

“ ** _It is why the Wolf has stood such a vigilant guard over you_** ,” Valour says, though it sounds further away.  “ ** _This is not Earth Eevee.  Thedas is a dangerous place_**.”  Guess I’ll be sticking to Solas like glue.  “ ** _A good plan.  Also remember you have magic.  You can cast an impenetrable barrier.  You are not limited in your shape.  And this time you have not only the Wolf on your side, but us as well_**.”


	16. To The Tavern

Kaaras is mid hug with Solas.  Not one of those bro-hugs, where both participants keep to the three second rule, and only do a one armed hug, with back slap.  No, this is a full on hug.  Neither of them seems worried about the physical contact.  Neither of them is trying to dominate the hug.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen two guys hug so comfortably.

 

“ ** _This is Thedas_** ,” Love says.  I think I’m going to be hearing that phrase a lot.

 

Letting Solas go, Kaaras tells him, “And keep an eye on Eevee.  I don’t really trust this Induction thing.  The humans got really stirred up.”

 

“I will,” Solas is nodding.  “Please watch over your sister as you travel.  I fear the state the rest of Thedas is in.”  They both share look and a nod.  Even Varric nods.

 

“I’m standing right here,” Herah points to herself.  “And I can take care of myself.”

 

All three males nod at the same time, even as Varric, very placating, says, “Yeah Jinx, we know.”  Apparently some things are the same on both worlds.  If they start mansplaining, things are worse than I could possibly imagine.

 

It does cause Herah and I to share a look.  Again, some things do seem to be universal, across worlds, and races.  My lips curve up and I have to turn away, or I’ll laugh at them.  She laughs at them anyway, “Yeah Eevee, I know, men.”  Waving to me she says, “Right, we’re off.  Best to get out of the Chantry while we can.  No use waiting for them to organise a mob,” Her tone is light-hearted, but her words jolt me back to reality.

 

All three of them are leaving.  Running from Haven while they still can.  I’m stuck here with only Solas to protect me.  Last time it wasn’t enough.  I can admit to myself I’m fucking terrified this time will play out the same way.  As they head for the door, I push myself off the bed, getting to my feet.  They might not be here for very long, but I’m sure hanging out with them, is going to be safer than on our own.  Solas did say safety in numbers earlier.

 

Speaking of Solas, he hurries to my side, “Vhenan?”  Thankfully they stop walking towards the door.

 

I don’t know how to ask this, so lean in and murmur, “You said safety in numbers.  They’ve already proved themselves to be good in a fight.  Isn’t it better for us to stay near them?  At least for today?”  Oh god, I sound like I’m using them.  Which I kind of am.  But I can’t defend myself.  I hate confrontation and violence.  I’ve seen them fight, they’re shockingly lethal.

 

Eyes softening, he nods, “Yes and I understand.”  Turning to them he says, “Eevee has asked if we can join you.  At least for today.”  His arm slides around me, steadying me on my feet.

 

“Sure,” Kaaras says without any hesitation.

 

“The tavern’s empty this time of day,” Varric suggests.  “They usually have a nice big fire going.  Lots of seating for Mouse to rest near the warmth.”  Tapping a finger on his chin he adds, “Food’s not bad either.”

 

“Ah, a tavern,” Solas sounds amused.  “I am unsure why I am so unsurprised by your choice.  Though it is kind of you to think of ma lath.”  I snort to hide my laugh.  Yeah, Varric and taverns do kind of go together.

 

“Chuckles,” Varric does a dramatic hand to heart thing.  “You should never be surprised by taverns and me.  In Kirkwall one of them was my home.”

 

“You lived in a tavern?”  Kaaras asks and goes to open the door.  Pausing, he asks, “How is Eevee getting to the tavern?  Do we get to see Solas dance again?”  His tone is teasing though.

 

Turning to me, Solas says, “I am more than willing to carry you.  Or would you like to try walking?”  Either option is awesome.

 

“Can I really walk that far?”  Walking should floor me, but this is a new body, and I really do need to practice.  I’m still being a bit of a new born baby deer on my feet.

 

“If we go slowly, there is no reason you can’t walk there,” He hasn’t even finished speaking before I’m nodding excitedly.  “Very well, we shall walk.  If our companions are willing to take their time?”

 

Herah’s frowning, “Are you sure Eevee should be walking so soon after waking up?”  Oh, yeah, I’m supposed to have exhaustion.

 

“On the contrary, small, and I do mean small, bursts of exercise will help my wife recover.  It will also allow her to have a good night’s sleep, again helping her recover,” I back Solas up by nodding like I know what I’m talking about.  Since I’m also supposed to be a healer, they accept this bullshit, and we set off on our journey.

 

Automatically shuffling, I want to faceplam for forgetting I can lengthen my stride.  This picks up the pace for all of us.  With Solas acting as a stabiliser I think I could get the hang of this.  Out of the room, and into the gloomy Chantry we go.  Solas urges the others to go through the big barn like double doors, they wanted to go out the back way.  There’s a back way?  Being the ancient trickster wolf god that he is, he gets his way, and we head towards the big doors.

 

Concentrating on walking, and getting used to how my new legs work, I zone them out, too busy revelling in the joy of such pain free movement.  Suddenly we come to an abrupt jarring halt.  A nasally, and waspish, female voice tells us, “You will leave immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The Chantry is only for the children of the Maker.”

 

Keeping my balance, by leaning on Solas, I look up to find one of the big hat wearing members of the Chantry glaring at us.  Varric already has his hands up, and again, in a placating voice says, “We were just leaving Mother.”

 

“You should never have entered,” She snaps back.  Having this blatant hatred rubbed in my face is shocking, making the information the Spirits gave me more real.

 

Reading about moments like this, watching them on the television, or playing them in games, does not prepare you for the reality.  In any of the escapism mediums I love, the protagonist would slap this racist bigot down.  I’m pressed against Solas, trembling, because I remember voices like hers, they belonged to people who told me I was lying about what my sperm donor did to me.  They are judgemental, hypocritical, and vindictively cruel people.  They would rather turn a blind eye to all the wrong going on around them, because it would upset them to face it, and force them to face themselves.

 

Both Kaaras and Herah have dropped their shoulders, their bodies tight, the expressions on their faces are blank, their body language is not good.  Even Varric is tense.  The sinking realisation that this is normal for them is gut wrenching.  I’ve seen this for myself in other victims, in me, and it’s making me angry.  The Inquisition is supposed to be for everyone.  The Inquisition is supposed to stand for more.

 

Only Solas seems unconcerned by her.  “I will be sure to mention your words to Cassandra, and Sister Leliana, the next time we speak,” Solas says, his voice soft, almost kind.  “My wife, and I, apologise for intruding, and from now on the Herald of Andraste,” As if on cue the Mark flares on my hand loudly and with a burst of light.  Thankfully it’s not painful, “Will not step foot in this Chantry again.”  I want to cheer.  He did an excellent put down.  And he’s gotten us out of coming back to this dingy place.

 

Her shocked gasp is loud in the silence of the Chantry.  We ignore her, and Solas urges the others on, towards the exit.  “The Herald?”  I don’t think the woman was expecting that particular plot twist in her life.  Good.  May she discover more thumb tacks on her life’s path.  “But.  But.  But, why would Andraste’s chosen be near smelly ox-men?  Or a useless knife ear?  And the dirty dwarf?”

 

Shaking from a boiling mixture of terror, rage, and my complete lack of power to do anything, I cling to Solas and grit my teeth.  “ ** _Wonder Woman would not simply leave_** ,” Valour says.  And it’s right.  She wouldn’t.  She’d kick arse, either literally, or verbally.  There’s a reason she’s in the triumvirate with Superman and Batman.  But I’m not Wonder Woman.  I’m just me.  “ ** _You are more than you realise.  You are a person raised on a world which constantly fails at equality, yet it does not give up, it keeps learning from its mistakes, getting closer to the ideal.  You have stood in a courtroom and testified against the man who sired you.  You have battled through so much, your bravery, your refusal to back down, has inspired many on your world_**.”  I’ve inspired people?  “ ** _You have.  From those suffering as you did as a child, giving them the courage to speak out.  To the sick who are battling the disease you know as cancer, you gave them hope and the strength to carry on_**.”  Okay.  Not sure how to take that.  I’m no one.  I’m not special.  I’m not a hero.  “ ** _No, you are not the person you think is a hero.  You are simply a person.  Thedas is not ready for you.  Nor the ideals you carry inside of you_**.”

 

“ ** _And you are not alone_** ,” Wisdom weighs in.  “ ** _We are all here, and we will help you_**.”  There’s a sensation of people around me.  It’s not the normal sensation, which would make me flee, it’s welcoming, warm, supportive.  Solas’ hand on me tightens minutely and relaxes again.  “ ** _The Wolf is also aware of us, and he is more than willing to help you, let him be your voice.  You fear public speaking.  You struggle to talk to anyone you do not know.  Tell him your words.  He will learn, quickly, how to best aid you_**.”  He did do that for me earlier.  He’s wasn’t brilliant at it, but he is an excellent carer.  “ ** _He wishes to do better_**.”

 

When Solas goes to step forward, I don’t, the Spirits are talking to me.  As they’re in my head, or the Fade, or whatever it is they do, they can quickly take ideas out of my head, share them, improve the weak spots, and hand them back.  We soon have ideas of how to protect the others while they’re with me today.  Turning my head up to Solas I whisper the words to him.  Those clever eyes of his narrow as he listens; by the end, his lips have quirked up, and his eyes are twinkling.

 

Standing up straight, shoulders back, one arm around me to support me, the other behind his back, he’s the picture of authority, “The Herald says, she owes these three people her life.  Because of their courage, bravery, and unwavering dedication to her protection in the face of the Breach, and the chaos it sowed, she survived to stabilise the Breach.”  He delivers our words brilliantly.  To the point the woman’s mouth has dropped open.

 

Solas isn’t finished though, “The Herald is fully aware of how lucky she is, to have had two such deeply professional dragon horned Vashoth, as her personal protection.  Lady Seeker Cassandra, is an exceptionally busy woman, and as Right Hand this is the type of duty she would normally be in charge of.”  Total bullshit.  But really good bullshit, and Solas works it perfectly.  Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Kaaras has straightened up, while Herah is no longer trying to make herself seem smaller.

 

“Also, the Inquisition is honoured to play host to the renowned author Varric Tethras, who penned The Tales of the Champion, and who was invited to Haven, to speak to Most Holy, may she rest safely in the Maker’s Arms,” He pauses to bow his head respectfully.  “Master Tethras’ aid against the Breach was not insignificant, and we are humbled such a talented man chose to walk up a mountain with us.”

 

A ring of silence is growing around us, as people stop to listen in.  Murmuring in Solas’ ear, I get to see him start blushing.  “Vhenan!”  I elbow him, gently, so he’ll say my words for me.  “The Herald,” His voice is no longer confident, but has an edge of embarrassment to it.  Clearing his throat, he starts again, “The Herald would like to point out, that as her husband I am not useless, it was my understanding of the Fade and my advice which lead to the stabilisation of the Breach, the closing of lesser rifts, and the original survival of my wife when she fell out of the rift.”  His ears are burning red, and there’s this band of red across his face, “She also praises my steadfast vigilance over her, as she slept exhausted, and helpless, from her endeavours against the Breach.”  Not exactly what I said to him, but close enough.

 

You could hear a pin drop in the Chantry.

 

I’m sure at this point we’re supposed to make a sweeping, yet dignified exit.  Instead we make a slow get away, hampered by my snail pace.  When the doors close behind us, I may breathe out heavily and lean into Solas, in sheer relief to get out of there.

 

“Playing host?  Invited?” Varric queries.  “You know I was dragged here against my will, right, Chuckles?”

 

“Of course,” Solas answers him.  “I believe that is Cassandra’s way of subtly inviting anyone.”  It makes us all laugh.  “Shall we make our way to the tavern before the Chantry Mother works out what Eevee truly said?”  We all nod and head towards the tavern.

 

Forced to take our time, I get a chance to look around Haven.  Wood and stone buildings, smothered in snow, tents scattered everywhere.  People hurrying places, they all stop to stare at us though.  A few people spit on the ground and carry on.  Others frown before moving on.  We ignore them, but the tension is back in the others.

 

Reaching the steps, I have to admit defeat, I let Solas sweep me up princess style and carry me down the stairs.  Damn.  I did them last time, with Cassandra.  Grumbling under my breath, I act like a sack of potatoes, and when he puts me down, he kisses my forehead, “Soon ma lath.  You are so much stronger already.”  Nodding I try and cheer up.

 

Rounding the corner, we pass Varric’s fire, or at least it was in the game.  Now there are humans crowded around it.  “Well, there goes my home sweet home,” Shaking his head he adds, “Thankfully I didn’t bring anything with me when I was ‘invited’ to Haven.”

 

“My condolences Master Tethras,” Solas pitches his voice to not carry far.  “Should your evening plans not bear fruit, I believe my wife and I would be happy to host you.  Our floor is quite clean, our fireplace warm, and we have access to food.”  Fuck, does that mean Varric got kicked out of his tent?

 

“ ** _Yes_** ,” Love says.  “ ** _He had little enough in it, a threadbare blanket, nothing personal.  One of the soldiers ‘commandeered’ it for Inquisition forces_**.”  Which of course doesn’t include anyone not human.  I can feel my blood start to boil again.

 

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that Chuckles,” Varric says.  “If it does I don’t think I’m getting out this place alive.”  On that cheery note we reach the tavern.  “Come on, it should be safe in here for a while.”  Pushing the door open he steps in and freezes in place.

 

Peering over his shoulder, it looks like the game, but bigger.  And most of the tables are occupied.  People in similar armour are everywhere.  If this was Earth, I’d say they were doing paperwork, what with the paper around them, and many of them have quills.  They’re also all staring at us.  Those are not friendly stares.  I’d call them glares.

 

A sensation of magic from Solas, and Varric stumbles forward a step, giving us room to step in from the cold.  I’m not sure I want to be in here.  My stomach starts to knot up as the tension in the room rises.  We’re not welcome here.  No wonder the others all want to run.  I would too.

 

Maybe I can talk Solas into running tonight.

 

Beside me Solas is making a show of looking around, frowning he turns to me, “Ir abelas, there appears to be no free tables here, ma asha.”  He’s pitched his voice to carry, they’re all listening.  “It would seem you will have to return to our cabin instead.  I will have one of the servants assigned to us fetch our lunch.”  And he brilliantly gets us out here.

 

“ ** _Do you truly wish to change Thedas?  To protect those born as other than human?_** ” Valour asks me.  And yes, I do want to change things.  And yes, Solas can speak for me to one stuck up woman.  A tavern full of armoured fighter types is very different.  We’d need Cassandra, or Cullen, to back us up.  “ ** _Not necessarily.  There is one person they will bow to; you.  If they accept you as the Herald_**.”

 

Suddenly the Mark flares, loudly, brightly, startling me into Solas.  His arms steady me, as gasps of shock ring out from the tavern, swiftly followed by various voices saying, “Herald.”  Oh fuck.  I don’t think we’re leaving as easily any more.


	17. Mabari Are A Herald’s Best Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter. But Mabari :)

In the background the fire crackles, the only sound in this frozen tableau.  I hate it when people stare.  And they’re staring now.  I suppose it’s a step up from glaring.  Pressing against Solas, I can feel myself trembling, he’s steady as a rock, I need to learn to grow nerves of steel like he has.

 

Trapped, and unsure how to get out of this situation, I jump when a deep rumbling woof comes from the far end of the tavern.  It draws my eyes to the biggest dog I’ve ever seen.  This can only be a Mabari.  Huge doesn’t even begin to describe this behemoth.  In the games I’m sure they were modelled to stand as high as dwarves, this one’s head would be just short of the top of my head, it’ll easily be able to look me in the eyes.  Dark chocolate brown, one ear torn off, ragged scars over its face, and built so stocky I think it’s wider than me, maybe just short of Kaaras’ width, it reminds me of Baron.

 

“ ** _He_** ,” Love tells me.  “ ** _This Mabari is a male dog_**.”

 

With so many people staring at me, there’s no way I’ll be able to vocalise loud enough for them to hear me.  Instead I mutter under my breath, “Oh, who is the most beautiful boy.”  He’s a dog, he’ll be able to hear me.  “You are so lovely.  I bet your two-legged best friend is the luckiest person in Thedas because of you,” I remember just in time to change it from human to two-legged person.  He could be bonded to someone other than a human.

 

Proving just how smart Marbari are, he nods in agreement, woofing a few times as well.  “Yes, yes you are the bestest boy.  You are the snuggliest prettiest, cuddliest boy ever.”  Standing up, his little stub of a tail is wagging so hard and so fast, his whole backend follows, knocking into the people around him.  He doesn’t seem to care, and it makes me smile.  Other than with Solas, this is the happiest I’ve been awake, since I arrived in Thedas.  Pushing through the crowd towards me, he woofs a few more times, and makes those noises dogs do to let you know they’re friendly.

 

Automatically I hold my hands out towards him, and clap them together, “You are so beautiful.  Are you friendly?”  He’s a Mabari, he’ll understand me, and he’ll be able to tell me if he is, or isn’t, friendly towards me.  He nods woofing loudly.  I can feel the smile stretching across my face at his answer.  “May I have the honour of petting you?  I also tend to hug dogs, rub ears, and press kisses on them.”  He goes absolutely mental, if I thought his tail wagging was over the top, it’s nothing compared to what he’s doing now.  “Thank you,” I tell him and keep my hands out towards him.  It seems he’s as eager for the fussing as I am.

 

God I love animals.  So much better than people nearly all of the time.

 

A deep sigh in my ear reminds me Solas is holding me up, “Enough!”  He unwraps one arm from me to point a finger at the Mabari.  “Eevee is suffering from Mana Exhaustion.  She has only just woken up, and is still incredibly weak.  You must be careful around her, or you will cause her harm.”  Taken aback at his tone, I’m startled when the Mabari stops in his tracks, cocks his head, and clearly thinks.  When he steps forward again, he is visibly calmer.  “Thank you.  I know you will not mind her holding onto you.  At the moment, without support or aid, when she stands and walks, she may fall.”  The big dog’s head nods and he woofs.  “Then I will wait until you are here, and I will surrender my wife to your protection.”

 

And I’m back to feeling like a sack of potatoes.

 

Before I can wallow too much, the Mabari reaches me, and Solas does pass me over to him, with one final warning, “My Heart is precious to me, please, protect her.  There is no other like her in all of Thedas.”  He gets another nod, and a serious woof.  I’m busy clinging to the biggest animal I’ve ever been this close to, as Solas steps back, no longer supporting me.

 

Earlier today I’d noticed that Solas is very clearly not human.  His physical dimensions are all wrong to be human.  This Mabari is similar, in that he’s a canine, but not traditionally like a dog.  He’s built too big.  Heat radiates off of him.  His short fur is surprisingly soft, even more so than silk.  Under his skin I can feel some of his muscles and the scope of them blows my mind.  His skin is supple, but thick, I’d say it was armour plated but I can’t feel anything lumpy under my fingertips.  I can’t get my arms all the way around his neck.  His head is bigger than mine.  His breath isn’t the normal doggy breath, it’s pleasant.  The smell coming off him is so good I end up smooching my face into his neck, “Oh you are so wonderful.  So perfect.”  He woofs, and it rattles my chest with the bass.

 

Tiny ears, for his head, but almost as big as my hand, prick up and flick down.  I just have to reach up and rub the base of one of them.  Happy whines and huffs come from him, making me laugh, there’s too many people for me to laugh out loud, so I’m silent.

 

Plonking his arse down, I can see he isn’t sitting like a normal dog, his legs are too long, too everything.  They remind me of a hyena’s but more over exaggerated.  I get a sense of blinding speed, or inexhaustible long distance running from them.  Even sitting he can easily look me in the eye.  His eyes aren’t normal for a dog.  The pupil is different but I’m not sure how.  “ ** _You cannot see it clearly this way_** ,” Love says.  “ ** _If you used magic, you would find the lenses in them are modified for him, and he has five types of cones for colour, as well as special rods for night vision_**.”  That must be it then.

 

Stroking him, clinging to him, petting him, and giving him little kisses, I’m happily making an idiot of myself.  And I don’t care.  He’s amazing.  He’s lapping it all up.  Murmuring to him like I would Baron, I do have to wonder if I can get a Mabari of my own, if one of these magnificent beings would consent to be my best friend.

 

Over his sweet furry head, I can see a human man has stood up, and is pushing his way through the crowd.  Armoured similar to Cassandra, a huge sword slung on his back, he bears down on us.  “Hamish! Come here!”  My new fluffy canine friend wuffs at him and stays put.  The man’s jaw drops open, before he yells, “What have you done to my Mabari?”  Oh he seems really angry.


	18. Extraction Plan

Pressing against Hamish the Mabari, I watch in horror as the angry armoured man, with the big sword on his back, steams towards me.  “Get away from him!”  Is screamed at me.

 

Freezing in terror, I can only stand there like an idiot, shaking in my footwraps.  “ ** _Solas is behind you_** ,” Love warns me.  An arm wraps around me, lifting me slightly, and pulling me backwards.  If I hadn’t been told who it was, I’d be freaking out.

 

Suddenly Kaaras is between me and the angry guy.  Even as Varric steps up to the other side, hands up in a placating manner, he does that a lot.  “Now let’s all just calm down.  I’m sure Chuckles has a reasonable explanation for how Mouse did that.  Because she has Mana exhaustion, so I know she can’t have used magic.”

 

“Of course she didn’t use magic,” Herah is next to me and Solas.  “I didn’t feel anything from her.  And she doesn’t have any mana reserves right now.  She’s completely harmless.”  Part of me is happy this crazy armoured man isn’t going to see me as a threat.  Part of me is afraid he’s going to realise I can’t defend myself and attack me.

 

“She did something to him!” The man yells.  Thankfully I can’t see him, as Kaaras is blocking the way.  “Hamish never acts like that!  He hates strangers!”

 

Solas releases me, so I’m on my own two feet, and then spins himself, so he’s in front of me.  I have a great view of his staff strapped to his back.  To steady myself I reach out to hold onto his tunic.  “You will grow used to such things,” He says.  “I have no idea why my wife holds such fascination for Mabari, Harts, Halla, butterflies, bees, some bears, dolphins, and others.”  I do?  “Every Mabari in residence will come and visit her over the next few days.”  They will?  I’d love that, as long as their two-legged friends don’t lose their shit at me.  “Any Harts in the stables will escape to show off and dance for her.”  Isn’t dancing what they called the prancing Solas did earlier?  “Were we near Halla, we would wake to find herds of them gathered around her.”  Wait, Halla are the elf mounts that pull their land ships, aren’t they?

 

Solas stands up straighter, and his arms settle behind his back, well more around behind me, effectively trapping me against him.  I don’t really mind.  For once his touchy feeling thing is good, I need some form of reassurance, and this is nice.  “Amongst the Dalish clans, they have Keepers for their Halla herds.  These Keepers have learnt how to speak, and listen, to their Halla, in ways the rest of Thedas cannot.  Having learnt this technique in my travels,” I can’t help wondering if it was in his travels in modern Thedas, or ancient Thedas.  “I have attempted to ask the Halla attracted to my wife, why they are so fascinated by her.”

 

Whoa he really did the mind trick thing with Halla?  I loved you could do that in Origins.  Not that you got a lot from the Halla you Vulcan mind melded with.  And if you can pull it off with Halla, can you do it with Mabari?  Or any other animal?

 

A hush has fallen over the tavern.  It doesn’t feel as threatening as it did earlier.  Solas doesn’t seem fazed by being the centre of attention.  “The art of communicating with a Halla is open to confusion.  While they understood my question to them, they were unable to answer in a way I could fully understand.”  Well that sucks.  “All I was able to get from them, was a set of simple images of a warm light, similar to a flickering campfire, but not dangerous like fire.  This light illuminated the area around it, beckoning any able to see it, and warming their spirits when they stood near her.”

 

Confused by him, I lean into him and try to work it out.  Nope, I don’t get it.  In the game, some of Cole’s dialogue was that the Herald was too bright.  And Sera said the Herald glowed.  Does that mean Mabari, Harts, and Halla can see the Mark too?  “ ** _Yes_** ,” Wisdom says.  “ ** _It reflects its wielder’s inner fire.  Attached to you, it is a warm, gentle fire, spreading comfort and safety.  Attached to Solas, it burns any who come in contact with it_**.”

 

No one else in the Tavern seems to understand him either.  Leaving the floor open for Solas to keep talking, “It is good to see the chosen partner of a Mabari so protective.”  Does he mean the man who yelled at me?  “Hamish is lucky to have found you.  Unfortunately, there are far too many partners who do not take their responsibilities so seriously.”  Oh my god, is he really talking nicely to the angry man?  “Why anyone would neglect such an amazing animal is beyond all reasoning.”  Huh?  I’m lost.  What is Solas doing?  “To be granted their unswerving friendship, and loyalty, when they imprint on you.  It is a gift few are privileged to receive.  And it cannot be broken by anything, not even death.  Hamish will accept no one but you as his partner.”

 

“But,” The angry man interrupts.  “I saw her.  I saw her do something to Hamish.  She was whispering something.  Some spell.”

 

“My wife rarely speaks loudly.  She has a great deal of scar tissue in her throat, the damage my wife suffers from impacts on her speech, and it causes her great pain to talk above a certain level,” Solas says and I’m impressed with his explanation.  It’s wrong.  And a lie.  But impressive.  “It is why she often asks me to speak her words for her.”

 

“ ** _Not a complete lie_** ,” Love says.  “ ** _He has put scar tissue in this body’s throat.  It will not impact on your voice but will give you an excuse for not talking.  He is aware the issue is psychological not physiological.  The damage you suffer from is mental in nature.  The pain you experience is through your anxiety, nerves, and stresses put on your body from any public speaking_**.”  Sneaky little wolf.  He’s managed to tell the truth, mostly, and twist it.  Any lies are by omission and misdirection.

 

“Hamish, as a Mabari, has excellent hearing.  My wife was able to use a comfortable whisper, and even in this crowded room, Hamish heard her perfectly,” Solas carries on.  “I was able to catch a few words she used, and I know she called Hamish a beautiful boy,” He’s interrupted by Hamish barking.  “You see, Hamish is telling you I am speaking the truth.”

 

“Hawke’s Mabari, Leandra, she does the same thing,” Varric says.  I can’t really see him from here.  Also, I know that name.  Where do I know that name from?  Why would Hawke calling their Mabari Leandra be so familiar to me?  “Might take a bit of guess work to find out what she means, but she’s smart, can tell us stuff we wouldn’t know otherwise.”  A deep sigh, “Got us out of trouble so many times.  Leandra’s smarter than all of us.”

 

“Often the case,” Solas chips in with.  “In any group, they usually seem to be the most intelligent member.  And they are kind enough not to rub our noses in it.”  I’m reminded of Morrigan saying the Mabari was smarter than Alistair.  The Mabari was probably smarter than her too.

 

“You’re forgetting something,” Herah joins in.  “Eevee has Mana exhaustion.  She doesn’t have any mana to fuel a spell.”  I go to nod along with her words and pause.  In the cabin, when I had my panic attack, there was something inside of me.  A something Love called my mana.  “Stabilising the Breach wiped out her mana stores.  She’s lucky her heart didn’t stop.”

 

“ ** _It would be unwise to tell them your mana has recovered so well and so quickly_** ,” Wisdom advises me.  Prodding at the new part inside of me, I try to work out how big it is.  Compared to when I was going up the mountain, this is tiny, any of the spells I used then would drain it drastically.  “ ** _Yes, this is the level of mana most mages of this time use.  Few have more.  You will find Solas, and Flemeth, are some of the only ones capable of matching your mana levels when you are fully rested_**.”

 

“But,” The angry man doesn’t sound as angry any more.

 

“ ** _He begins to doubt_** ,” Love tells me.  “ ** _Soon Solas will engineer an excuse for all of you to leave_**.”  Good.  Leaving is an excellent idea.  Note to self, never come back to the tavern.  Clearly taverns are unsafe places.

 

“There is a Templar in the tavern,” Solas drops that bombshell on me.  “Perhaps she will be able to confirm if any magic was used on Hamish?”  I cling a bit tighter to Solas’ back.  I really didn’t like being near Cullen, and he’s going through withdrawal from lyrium, so his presence is going to be less intense.  I don’t think I want to be near a normal Templar.

 

A chair slides back over the wooden floor of the tavern.  I still can’t see anything.  I strain to hear anything.  A woman’s voice says, “Ser Solas isn’t it.”  I’d say she sounds French, but there isn’t enough of it in her voice.  Not English either.  Some weird mashup of the two.

 

“Yes, I am. And your name is?”  Okay now I’m huddling behind him.  My body is trembling again, it had started to calm down.  Thankfully Solas’ arms press me tighter against him.  I could get used to this, someone being there, it won’t last, he always leaves after the final battle.  There is no story path where Solas stays.

 

“I am Lysette,” I know her name from somewhere.  It’s ringing a bell for some reason.  I’ve really got to read up on everyone again.  I’ve forgotten too much.

 

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Lysette.  Please, we have an issue regarding magic.  As a Templar, you will be able to feel when a mage uses magic.  Have any of us used magic since we walked into the tavern?”  He asks her.  In every Dragon Age game mages are nervous of Templars.  They prefer to avoid them wherever possible.  Solas sounds calm, relaxed, he’s not acting afraid of her.

 

Right now, you could hear a pin drop.  She should say yes, Solas used magic when we walked in.  “No ser Solas.  I have felt no magic from any of you.”  A sigh rushes through the tavern.

 

Why did she just lie?

 

“ ** _She did not_** ,” Love says.  “ ** _Solas did not use the type of magic the Templar can sense.  As far as she is concerned, no magic was used_**.”  Huh?  “ ** _There is a reason Solas was considered an Evanuris.  Magic is magic, as water is water_**.”  He said those words in the game.  “ ** _You are aware of Fade magic, Blood magic, and Blight magic_**.”  Yeah.  Standard.  “ ** _There are others.  One of them was used by the Evanuris, and only the Evanuris.  A templar can sense Fade magic strongly, Blight magic when it is nearby, and Blood magic only very slightly.  The Wolf used the magic of the Evanuris_**.”

 

Reeling from its lore bombshell, I miss the next few bits of conversation, though I do notice the background noise has increased, as people whisper to each other.  And the angry man says, “So the Herald really didn’t use magic on Hamish?”  Busy using Solas to hold myself steady, I can’t give him a set of slow sarcastic claps for finally understanding.

 

“No,” Lysette the Templar woman answers him.  “I would have felt it if she’d used any magic.  And this soon after waking up with Mana exhaustion, she really can’t cast.”  Wanting to roll my eyes, I rest my forehead on Solas’ shoulder blade and breathe out in relief, he’s managed to diffuse a potentially violent incident.

 

Awkward silence sidles into the room.

 

Waiting for Solas to make our excuses so we can escape, I’m startled when he asks, “And may we know your name?”

 

“Why?” The angry man now sounds worried.  Probably because he knows Solas is going report him.  I bet Solas is going to get us to Cullen and get this guy kicked out of the Inquisition.  I understand he thought he was protecting Hamish, but his actions were out of line.

 

“It is polite to know the name of the man I will be drinking with, while my wife is petting Hamish,” Is not the answer I was expecting.  And why the fuck is Solas going to be drinking buddies with this guy?  “We four are all members of the Inquisition, are we not?”  If that guy’s staying in the Inquisition, I’m leaving.  Hamish can stay, but not ‘Mr Scream at People First Ask Questions Never’.  “It has been some time since I have been a soldier.  I confess, I have sometimes missed the camaraderie.  The sense of belonging, and solidarity, forged in the adversity of battle.”  Huh?  He’s missed hanging out with men like this?  He’s really serious about this?

 

I don’t understand.

 

Why would Solas want to drink with him?

 

Confused, and frankly upset, at this turn of events, I have the sinking realisation Solas is just like everyone else.  It’s always the victim’s fault.  He’ll blame me for this man’s actions.  I triggered the man off.  I did something wrong.  I’m just a woman, my pain, my fear, is immaterial, irrational, stupid, a waste of time.  Being with this man, drinking, fighting, is fun and worthwhile to Solas.

 

“ ** _No_** ,” Wisdom cuts in.  “ ** _This is a step Solas is taking, to allow the man, Finlay, to give you the excuse to leave.  And it will give you all a reason to avoid him in the future_**.”  How?  Solas is just buddying up to the guy, trying to make friends.  “ ** _Exactly.  Everyone in the tavern will hear this, will witness it.  There will be no one who doubts Solas is attempting to be friendly.  To smooth over this whole incident.  It is Finlay who will reject him and his efforts_**.”  Why?  There’s no possible reason for this Finlay man to reject Solas.  Unless he still thinks I ‘magicked’ Hamish.

 

“What?” Finlay isn’t angry any more, he sounds confused, or upset.

 

“I suspect you have been in previous battles, and skirmishes,” Solas says, cheer in his voice.  It’s surprisingly hurtful to hear it.  I don’t want him being nice to this man, who just frightened me so badly, and potentially would have hurt me.  As I’m learning, Thedas isn’t the nicer parts of Earth, where I lived, it’s dangerous here.  “It will be extremely pleasant to sit with another solider and discuss our previous battles.”  Annoyed at Solas, I replay his words and blink, he hasn’t said it will be pleasant to sit with this solider and discuss battles, only another solider.  It could be anyone.  “Out in the wilderness, good ale is hard to come by.  A warm tavern.  Good conversation.  These are things to look forward to.”

 

Holy fuck.  Just how slippery is Solas in a conversation?  He’s not told one lie, yet made it seem like he wants to sit down with this guy, in this tavern, have an ale, talk battles, and hang out.  Without once actually saying it.  “ ** _And now you see it for yourself_** ,” Wisdom says.  “ ** _He has always been good at such a skill.  Being a slave in the palace of his owner, he became highly skilled at this, his life often depended on it.  As an Evanuris, he excelled, and survived where others would have perished_**.”

 

Attempting to digest the information, I’m distracted by Finlay saying, “Me?  Drink with a knife ear?  Never.”  Oh god, it’s the fucking ear thing again.

 

“Ah,” Solas’ shoulders slump, his ears flick close to his head, and his voice holds disappointment, “I understand.”  Even though I know Solas has set this up, for Finlay to do exactly this, I’m still mad at the arsehole for rejecting Solas.  I should be glad the complete racist piece of shit, with serious anger management issues, has made sure he’ll never be near us.  “We will take our leave of you.”  And there it is, the perfect reason for us to leave.

 

Moving his arms away from me, leaving me feeling a bit bereft, he says, “Herah, the door, if you please.”

 

“Yes,” She steps towards it, hand outstretched to open it.

 

“Vhenan.  I will carry you,” There’s something in his voice.  Harder.  I don’t like it.  I let go of his tunic jerking my hands back.  Without another word, he spins, dips, and picks me up princess style.  “Arms around my neck,” Obediently I do as I’m told.  “This will be faster.  Let us retire to our cabin.”  Under his breath, he adds in a whisper, straight into my ear, “Ir abelas.  I do not mean to remove your agency.  We must leave, and swiftly.”

 

Nodding acceptance of ‘why’, I bury my face into his neck, and let him carry me off, like a naughty child.  I may despise the reasons behind the why.  I may loathe being the idiot female who needs to be rescued, but it doesn’t change the fact, I am the idiot female who needs rescuing.  In Thedas I am like a child.  I don’t like this sense of feeling small and helpless.

 

It’s probably a good thing I’m not going to end up being the Inquisitor.  I can’t even walk into a tavern without nearly causing an incident.

 

A whistle of wind from near the door, means Herah must have opened it, quickly followed by her saying, “Incoming.”  Magic washes over my skin, clumsy, and lumpy.  There’s a barrier over my skin.  Unlike my barriers, this is pure magic, creased up similar to a blanket, and wrapped around me.  It’s also decaying faster than mine.

 

Looking up from my nook in Solas’ neck, I can see two human men, in dark brown leather clothing.  Or would that be leather armour?  What catches my attention is they look identical.  Eerily so.  My sperm donor, also fathered a set of identical twin boys, who I grew up with, so I know there are some differences, physical and personality wise, but these two look like they’ve been stamped out of the same mould.

 

There’s also the fact they have blond hair so pale it’s almost white.  They’re eyes are a pale blue.  And the general shape of their faces reminds me strongly of the woman I saw in the vision on the mountain.  Together they cock their heads to one side, at the exact same time, at the exact same angle, and then they speak at the exact same time, “Evelyn?”

 

Valour feels like it steps closer to me, “ ** _They are Gareth, and Mervin Trevelyan.  They are the older, twin brothers, of Evelyn_**.”

 

Uh-oh.


	19. Thicker Than Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for how long this has taken.

Stepping backwards, Solas says, “The other door.  Now.”  Not once does he turn around, he keeps facing the spooky twins.  They walk forward together, in perfect sync, like those killer android human look alike things in video games, and sci-fi movies.

 

“Chuckles, “Varric says, a warning tone in his voice.

 

Even as Kaaras swears, “Fuck.  Three more of them.  Why do they all look like Eevee?”  Prompting me to peek over Solas’ shoulder.  There really are three more people with my new face and colouring there.  Two men in some metal armour, more like chainmail.  And a woman in full metal armour, very similar to Cassandra’s stuff.  They’re also between us and the other door.

 

Arms tightening where he’s holding me, Solas doesn’t break stride.  “To the bar area.  There is a window.”  I find myself looking at the small window.  And then he’s shifted his direction to take us over to it, backwards.  How is he navigating this tavern without looking?  I’d have tripped over furniture, or a person, by now.

 

Herah’s backing up beside us, “Hate to break it to you Solas, but the window’s kinda small.”  She has a point.  I think Varric could squish through it, maybe Solas, not sure if my new hips and boobs will fit.  Neither Kaaras or Herah will fit.

 

Considering everything we’ve just been through, I’m surprised when he chuckles, “We have magic Herah, the window will be as big as we need it to be.”  Then he adds, “And this also reminds me of my youth in the army.”  He doesn’t sound too worried.  And I wasn’t expecting the subject change.  He’s really trying to sell the whole ‘Origin’ story of slave from Tevinter thing.  Not sure what the tie in is supposed to be though.

 

“Huh?”  Kaaras has joined back up with us, he’s once again blocking people from getting to me.  I’m extremely grateful he’s as big as he is.

 

“Have you never been thrown through a tavern window?”  Solas asks, as I try and imagine the Solas I know from the game, going through a tavern window.  Wisdom did say he used to be fiery in his youth.  It’s certainly distracting me from the current situation.  An extremely distressing situation I don’t understand.  According to my Spirit Guides, Evelyn was disowned, disinherited, and wiped from their family tree.

 

“ ** _She was_** ,” Love tells me.  “ ** _Things have changed since then.  None of us foresaw this happening_**.”  Not very reassuring.  Exactly why are they here?  It doesn’t answer me.  My hands grip harder onto Solas, as I wait to be rescued, yet again.

 

Varric answers Solas with, “Not recently.  Also, good dodge on the earlier question,” causing me to zone back into the conversation.

 

“Thank you, though it seems it was not good enough to distract you Master Tethras.  Before you, are five members of the Trevelyan family.  No doubt sent to kill Eevee,” Solas is matter of fact about it.  Like this happens all the time.  Oh god, what if this kind of thing really does happen all the time?  Thedas is back to being a terrible place.  I’m beginning to understand why Solas was so determined to burn it to the ground.

 

“What?”  Kaaras stops in his tracks, “They’re Eevee’s family?”

 

“Yes, and no,” Solas gives him a cryptic answer.  “They were originally the family Evelyn was born into.  They are also the people who sent her to the Circle in Ostwick, in chains, beaten, close to death.  They disowned her publicly, legally, and spiritually, with the full permission of the local Chantry there.  Eevee is not a Trevelyan, they made sure of it.”

 

Okay, so my understanding of that part is right.  But why are they here?  Apparently Kaaras is thinking the same thing, and eerily echoes my thoughts, “But why are they here?”

 

“As I said, they are no doubt here to kill Eevee,” Solas has reached the bar area, and is backing up along the bar.  In game it wasn’t a huge place.  In reality, the bar is longer than we need it to be right now.  We need to get to the window, and escape.  “Their fumbled attempts at paying the Templar at Ostwick to kill her, has been proven to be a failure, they are now taking a direct hand in her murder.”

 

Huh?

 

“ ** _The Wolf speaks of a series of payments made to the Templar who tortured Evelyn, made her Tranquil against his Order’s rules, and then murdered her_** ,” Love says, as I reel under yet another info dump.  “ ** _His actions were driven by his hatred of the Trevelyans.  When he received payment for Evelyn’s death, and thanks from their matriarch, for removing the ‘stain’ of magic from the Trevelyan name, he took his own life in shame.  At the end he regretted his actions, not because an innocent was harmed, but because he had unwittingly helped the family he hated so much_**.”  I almost feel sorry for him.

 

Almost.

 

“So, what’s the plan?”  Kaaras asks.  I’d like to know too.  I’m not sure this is something we should be discussing, in front of the very people we’re trying to get away from.

 

“A simple one,” Solas says, his voice less cheerful, sterner, more commanding.  “We escape out of the window and make our way to the Chantry.  We must get Eevee to either Lady Seeker Cassandra, Sister Leliana, or Commander Cullen.  Any of them have the rank to call for help to protect Eevee from her killers.”  His arms squeeze me gently.  “If Eevee falls, if they succeed in murdering her, all hope for Thedas is lost.  We will all be doomed regardless of circumstance.”

 

Varric snorts, “You make it sound so easy Chuckles.  All we have to do is run from humans, while carrying a human, through a human infested town.”  Infested?  “And probably fighting the bunch of noble humans we’re running from.”  He pauses, “If we make it out of this, I have to introduce you to somebody; they get themselves into similar crazy shit all the time.  And if we can, we should get to the Seeker.  She has a temper, but she’ll protect Mouse from anyone, noble assholes won’t get through her.”

 

“Huh,” Herah says.  “I was going to say Leliana.  Woman is straight up crazy scary.  They’ll be dead before they can even glare at Eevee, and there won’t be one witness to the massacre.”  Are they really discussing this now?

 

“Cullen is not up for consideration?”  Solas queries, and it sounds familiar for some reason.

 

“Curley?”  Varric shakes his head.  “Let’s stick to the Seeker, and the Sister, for now.  We’ll let Curley settle into his new role first.”

 

Kaaras joins in the crazy banter with, “If we’re voting, I’d prefer Cassandra.  I’ve seen her chew people out.  She doesn’t mince her words.  She won’t take crap from anyone, not even these noble born assassins.  And I’ve seen her fight.  She’s a force of nature.”  Force of nature?  Why are those words familiar?  I really need to read up on Inquisition again.

 

Carried in Solas’ arms.  Protected by him, a dwarf, and two vashoth.  I can’t help but notice I’m surrounded by Inquisition forces.  Human Inquisition forces.  And not one of them is helping us; helping me.  They didn’t try and stop Finlay either.  Solas had to call to the Templar woman before she’d help.  Realisation settles in my stomach like a boulder.  I’m not safe in Haven.  I’m not safe in the middle of the Inquisition.  I need to get out, while I still can.

 

Reaching the end of the bar, Solas says, “Herah, a barrier please.  I will handle the ‘window’.  Kaaras, you are the main shield.  Varric, please feel free to give any of the murders a warning shot, in the head.”  His voice is hard as rock on the last word.

 

“Got it,” Varric doesn’t say anything else.  He reaches over his shoulder, draws Bianca, and readies her.  The clicks she makes are loud in the relative quiet of the tavern.

 

Travelling up the mountain, I expected the fighting.  Doesn’t mean I enjoyed it.  Or that I’m built to be around the level of violence I witnessed.  But I’m here in Haven.  I’m supposed to be safe.  The Inquisition’s Inner Circle aren’t supposed to be battling for my life, not until Haven is attacked, after I seal the Breach.  This is wrong.  Shaking, sick to my stomach, I bury my face in the side of Solas’ neck.  I can’t watch.

 

Magic wraps around my body.  Lumpy, inconsistent, simple, Herah’s barrier is the signal it’s about to start.  Tensing in his arms, I feel Solas’ magic gather, reaching out to shape the ‘window’.  Splintering, creaking, and groaning wood sounds fill the air, before the whistle of wind rushes around us.  “Hurry, the way is clear!”  Solas tells them.  Back to being Captain Obvious.  Though since I can’t see right now, it is helpful to me.

 

“Maxwell!”  An unfamiliar woman’s voice rings out.  “Smite them!  Stop the mages!  We’ll deal with the rest of the vermin.”  Vermin?

 

“NO!  YOU’LL KILL EEVEE WITH A SMITE!” Herah’s scream is deafening.

 

I didn’t think smites killed mages, just suppressed, or limited their ability to do magic?  Why would it kill me?  “ ** _A mage suffering from mana exhaustion, can die from a smite_** ,” Love tells me.  It does seem to enjoy dropping info bombshells on me.  “ ** _The smite often drains a mage of mana.  Thankfully you are already recovering, so there is something to drain, else it would drain your life, and could potentially stop your heart_**.”  Fuck.  So the Trevelyans really are here to kill me.

 

Cowering in Solas’ arms, waiting for the smite to hit, helpless to do anything, I vow to leave this shit hole of a town.  Fuck this.  I’m not staying in Haven.  I’m not waiting for all the other non humans to flee the harassment, persecution, and hate crimes, coming their way.  And I’m certainly not waiting around so Solas can be attacked, and I’m raped.  Nope.  Not happening.  The Spirits said I left last time too.  I’ll just be a bit more proactive this time.

 

Deep threatening growls are swiftly followed by a loud thump, and metal jangling.  More snarls, growls, and metal rattling like loose cutlery in a drawer, with a man yelling, “Get it off me!”

 

Huh?

 

Solas’ chuckle cuts through the air like a knife, “Ah, I see you have been introduced to Hamish.  He is a very good boy.”  What?  Did Hamish just attack one of the Trevelyans?  “You will find him extremely interested in protecting Eevee from harm.”

 

“Call off the mutt,” The woman from earlier commands.  “Before I gut it.”

 

WTF?  She’d really gut Hamish?  He’s just a sweet little baby boy.  “Hamish!”  My voice is barely a whisper, I’m too stressed to vocalise properly, I can only hope he can hear me.  “Stop, please, the bad lady will hurt you otherwise.”

 

Jingling sounds stop, though the growls are still there, reduced in volume, but constant.  Yeah, I don’t like her either.  I’m fine with him biting her.

 

“Get up Maxwell,” She says loudly.  Even at her most rage filled Cassandra didn’t sound like this woman.  She had emotion in her voice, this is cold, angry, and I really don’t like her.  “You look stupid down on the ground.  You.  Cow.  Move out of my way.  I need to collect my cousin.”  Cow?

 

Nothing happens.  All I can hear is Hamish growling.  “Are you deaf as well as stupid?  I said move!  You useless lump!”  Wow.  This woman has not read the how to make friends and influence people book thing.  Unless she’s got the how to piss people off version of it.  “Fine.  I’ll simply gut you, and step over your rotting corpse.”  Eww.  This woman is far too ready to gut people.

 

A silky, metal, dragging sound happens.

 

Hamish’s growls get louder, inter-spaced with barks.  And then Kaaras says, “Your knife is tiny, human.  My knife is better,” followed by the same weird noise, only deeper, and longer.  “See.  My knife beats your knife.”

 

I’m almost tempted to look.  I keep my face buried.  I think in this case, ignorance is bliss.

 

One long snarl lashes out.  Hamish sounds different, so it can’t be him.  “Don't think you’ve won, cow.  Your ‘knife’ doesn’t scare me,” Huh?  “We will meet again.  After I have spoken to the leaders of this ridiculous rebellion, this joke called an ‘Inquisition’, you will be publicly flogged and hanged for your actions.  How dare you threaten me!  I am of noble blood, you disgusting, filthy, farm animal, you will learn your place.”  Wow.  Bitch much?

 

Solas and I are going to have to talk.  Soon.  When we leave, we’re taking these three with us.  I don’t trust anyone here not to hurt them.  They’re in danger too.  We'll leave together.  Hopefully Solas will be able to convince them to travel with us.

 

“But Mallory,” An unknown man’s voice says.  “What about Evelyn?  She’s the heir of the House of Trevelyan now.  We can’t just leave her.” I must have misheard him.  I could have sworn he said I was the heir.

 

Mallory doesn’t seem to like his questioning of her orders, “Shut up Dean.  Do as you’re told.  I’m in charge.  You obey me as you would Lady Trevelyan herself.”  Seriously not good with people.  Good leaders don't talk to people like that.  Bad leaders talk to minions like that.  “We’ll speak to the leaders here.  Once they hear what we have to say, they will obviously hand Evelyn over to us, and punish these vermin for getting in our way.”  I really don’t like the sound of that.  I don’t want to be handed over to Mallory.  And these people are not vermin.  “We’ll then take her back to Ostwick, where she’ll do her duty to the family.  Maker willing, any brats she pops out won’t be stained with magic.”

 

WTF?

 

I can’t even begin to process what she just said.  For a few seconds I think it’s me shaking, but it’s actually Solas, “My wife is no brood mare to breed for your twisted family.  Our children will never grow up in the poisonous, cruel, and wretched household she was subjected to.  We will not be travelling to Ostwick; I forbid it.  We have more pressing duties here.  There is a Breach in the sky to close.  A Divine’s murderer to be hunted down.  Chaos to be stopped.

 

“Should you truly wish to make amends to my Eevee, you may begin with an apology of your treatment of her.  Perhaps, and only perhaps, she may find it in her heart to forgive the unforgivable,” Solas doesn’t sound particularly convinced.  “Until that day, begone, and bother her no more.”

 

Right, because talking at people, like this Mallory, always works, insert sarcastic tone here.  Only in movies, and overblown stories, are people moved by speeches like his.

 

Mallory sort of shrieks, “Your wife?  No Trevelyan would lower themselves to spit on a knife ear, let alone marry one.  Your sham of a marriage will be annulled, or I can simply gut you, widowing my cousin swiftly.”  The fuck?  Does this woman really only have one way to deal with problems?  Gutting them?  Unless someone like Kaaras intimidates her too much, then she has to scurry away.  Even Disney villains have more depth to them.  “She will travel to Ostwick, she will marry her betrothed, and she will have a great number of daughters to carry on the noble line of Trevelyan.”

 

Nope.

 

Not happening.

 

My grip on Solas tightens to a death grip.

 

I don’t like Thedas anymore.  I want to wake up now.  Even though it means I’ll die of cancer.  Death is something I’ve had time to come to terms with.  My palliative care came with several excellent therapists.  Death isn’t the enemy; scary, but not the enemy.  There are fates much worse than death, and Mallory just described one of them.  To be dragged off to the place Evelyn was kicked out of, forced to marry a stranger, and then expected to have his children?  Somehow, I doubt the man will ask nicely, or accept IV treatment as an alternative method of knocking me up.  To be trapped in a marriage I’ve no interest in, to be stuck in the situation of being legally raped whenever he wants sex.  I shudder in horror and terror against Solas’ neck.

 

“ ** _Cry_** ,” Valour says.  What?  “ ** _Cry.  You underestimate the power of your tears_**.”  How is crying going to help matters?  I did that earlier.  It did get me an awesome hug from Solas, and he didn’t punish me for them.  “ ** _Neither will he punish you now.  Your tears can be a weapon.  Use them_**.”  Huh?  “ ** _Let us help you_**.”  My eyes start leaking.  A sob silently racks my body, as I shake my head in surprise.  Even my nose leaks.  Gross.  I also wordlessly protest this ridiculousness and bullshit.  Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I should faint, or cry, at every little thing.  I used to think I was stronger than that.

 

“Vhenan!”  Solas squeezes me as I cry Spirit induced tears in his arms.  His head must cock sideways as he rests his cheek against the top of my head.  “I am here.  I will never leave you again.  You are safe.”  I’m not.  I’m not safe at all.  “I will never let anyone harm you again.”

 

“Fuck,” Herah’s swearing is loud.  “Now you’ve made Eevee cry.”  Magic washes against my skin, renewing her earlier fading barrier.  “Leave, while you’re still breathing.  And don’t ever come back.”

 

“You humans,” Varric spits the last word.  “She’s your flesh and blood, but when does that mean anything to you.  Run away.  Now.  Because Bianca here, is always happy to help out a friend, like our little Mouse.”

 

“GET!”  Kaaras roars like he did when he’d charge at demons.  “OUT!”  My chest rattles with the bass. 

 

More barking and growling from Hamish.  He’s such a good boy.

 

I almost miss the thunk of wood against wood.  Before Solas is crooning at me, “They are gone ma lath.”

 

Herah all but growls, “Good riddance.  Gotta admit, Eevee can’t be a Trevelyan.”  I can’t?  Well, I mean I know I’m not really a Trevelyan, Solas copied the real Evelyn’s body for me.  “You help people.  You heal people, and rifts, and skies.  You’re not an asshole like they are.”  She makes me smile, overriding the Spirits’ whatever they did, so I stop crying.  I do make one last embarrassing hiccupping noise.

 

Kissing the top of my head, the only place he can reach, Solas says, “Come, our escape route is still open.  We should use it while we can.  Mistress Flissa, I will repair it for you, once we are outside.”

 

I’m getting far too used to the sensation of being carried.  When he stops moving I can hear the wood sounds again.  “Not bad Solas,” Kaaras says, “I can’t see where the hole was.”

 

“Thank you, my friend,” Solas replies.  “I have found it a very useful skill in my travels.  If there are no obvious clues to repairs, no one will think to check occupancy of areas, making them safer to rest in.”

 

“So, what do we do now?” Varric asks.  “It won’t take them long to hunt down the people they’re looking for.”

 

This seems as good a time as any.  I pull my head away from Solas’ neck, and mutter, “I want to leave Haven.”  His whole body stiffens, going rigid.

 

“Vhenan, are you sure?”  I glance up to see his grey eyes with a hint of blue staring at me intently.

 

Is he trying to stop me?  “ ** _No_** ,” Love says.  “ ** _He wants to make sure you meant what you said.  He will stay here with you, if you wish it.  Or he will leave here with you, if you wish that_**.”

 

I’m sure I want to leave.  “Yes Solas.  Please.  I’d like to leave Haven.  It’s not safe here.  We’re not safe here.”

 

God his eyes are expressive, they soften, fill with sadness and possibly understanding, now I’m not hiding my face anymore he rests his forehead against mine.  “Ma nuvenin, ma Vhenan.”  I think he’s just agreed.

 

“Can we ask the others if they want to come with us?” I ask him.  “They’re not safe here either.”  This way we can protect them, by removing them from this hostile environment.  And they can help protect us, out there in Thedas.

 

“Of course,” He nods, bumping our noses together.  It should be a sweet, cute move.  Except my nose is snotty, so, eww.  He looks up and over to the other three.  “Come, I know of a place we can rest, and talk, far from prying eyes and ears.  We have plans to make.”  He doesn’t even wait for them, just strides off with me in his arms.

 

Peeking over his shoulder is becoming a habit.  All three of them glance at each other, Kaaras shrugs, puts his sword back over his shoulder and starts after us.  Wait, when did he draw his sword?  Herah follows him.  Varric facepalms, re-holsters Bianca, and jogs to catch up.


	20. Crying and Helpless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being AWOL for so long. Here have another chapter.

She changes everything.

 

She may appear to be huddling in his arms.  She may even believe she is huddling.  She is not.  Even now, she is peeking out from the shelter of his arms, looking at Haven.  Watching.  Observing.  Learning.  Absorbing.  All the knowledge she is gathering will be carefully examined, checked, and double checked, before she acts.

 

MJ is what she calls an introvert.  She may appear to be slow to react.  She may even believe she is slow at reacting.  She is not.  She is like the deepest ocean.  On the surface the waves may appear calm.  Under the surface huge tidal movements gather, and they will sweep everyone along, or away, depending on the person.

 

Cradling her in his arms, Solas carries her through Haven, to a place they can all talk, far from the ears of the humans here.  Behind him, three unexpected bonuses follow them.

 

Kaaras, and Herah, did not survive the original explosion at the Conclave.  The last time these events occurred they died.  Their mercenary band was scattered across Thedas, arrested under false claims, and left to rot.  MJ had been strangely intractable where their mercenary band had been concerned.  From out of nowhere she had mentioned them.  Yet there was no link between the Dalish hunter and the mercenary band he could find.

 

It was not until later he discovered why she had known of them.  One of the dead siblings had the potential to be MJ’s new body.  She could have been wearing horns.

 

A few adjustments from him, and this time, they were momentarily delayed, so they were far enough away to survive the explosion.  As MJ had been so upset at their loss, he had worked to save them.  He had not expected them to appear, fight by their side, nor be so consistent in their protection of MJ.

 

Muttered complaints from a familiar dwarf cause his lips to quirk.  And then there is Master Tethras.  The dwarf had been one of the last to flee Haven.  Yet even the famous author, companion to the Champion Hawke, had been a target for hate.  He’d been forced to leave or die.  When they’d met again at the Crossroads, Varric’s crossbow had been invaluable, his natural charm easing tensions, his stories bringing hope.

 

MJ had instantly gravitated towards Varric, dragging Solas along with her.  The three of them had formed, what MJ had called, the core group.  They’d ranged out from the Crossroads, finding food, caches of supplies, and a great number of coins.  MJ had also rounded up all the non-humans convincing them to join her version of the Inquisition.  She’d even gone so far as to hug a dwarf there, a woman named Harding, who she’d put in charge of the scouts.

 

When Cassandra, and Corporal Vale, had finally appeared, the Crossroads were a safe haven for all.  Food, while not plentiful, was available.  The Templars and mages were dead.  And the Horse Master Dennet had fallen under MJ’s sway.

 

Seeing all the tiny slip of a, supposedly, Dalish hunter had done, Cassandra had accepted MJ’s demands.  That was the true moment the Inquisition had been born.

 

She changes everything.

 

Just now, outside the tavern he had panicked.  Foolishly mishearing her.  Her eyes had been full of tears.  She had been helpless in his arms.  Defenceless.  Yet when she had looked up at him, her intelligence, wisdom, and understanding had shone through.

 

She, and everyone else, will believe she is running away.  She is not.  She will simply prove to everyone why they should bend knee to her.  This time she will travel to the Crossroad with him, Varric, and two extra people in her inner circle.  Today the Inquisition will truly be born, and the five of them will be the core group.

 

Not even breaking stride, he presses a kiss against her forehead.  All around them the metaphorical hissing sigh of the ocean goes unheeded, the waters seemingly in retreat, when the giant wall of water bears down on them all, he will be riding high on top of the wave.

 

They will learn.

 

They will all learn.

 

**oOo**

 

Filling the tankard with ale, she smiles at the soldier, takes the man’s money, and makes her escape into the storage room.  Her excuse is fetching more ale.  Most patrons in Haven have seen her do this many times before.  They’ll suspect nothing.

 

In the room, she makes a gesture.  From behind a cleverly placed hide on a roof beam a crow hops out.  Quickly she scribbles the symbols of the code on a pre-cut piece of paper.  Offering the paper to the crow, it takes it from her fingers, and flutters back up to the beam.  There are ‘stairs’ cut into the roof itself.  This exit is hidden from below, allowing crows to come and go unseen, and messages to be sent to the Nightingale, without anyone else finding out.

 

Grabbing the ale cask, Flissa carries it back to the bar.  Her eyes glance at the small window.  The elf mage had been as good as his word, there was no sign he’d ever smashed part of the Tavern’s wall down.

 

Going about her business, her eyes keep being drawn back to the window.  The image of the Herald huddling in the elf’s arms seems to be burned into her mind.  Andraste herself had sent the woman, a mage, to them in their time of need.  Above them the Breach was stable.  There was talk of another attempt, this time with more mages, or Templars, to give the Herald the power needed to close the Breach, permanently.  In one hand the Herald carries the hope of all of Thedas.

 

When Andraste had walked among them, she had lifted her sword high, she had led the armies of the faithful against the Magisters.  She had not been a small, crying, weak, helpless woman.

 

Why would Andraste send someone like the Herald to them in such dark times?

 

Confused Flissa draws more mugs of ale.  Clearly the Maker, and his Bride, were sending them a message, but what was it?

 

When the main door to the Tavern bangs open, she automatically glances at the faces and settles them into her memory.  She’ll send a message to the Nightingale when she closes up with the names of all her customers.  One of the women had her hand on a Mabari, a big white beauty with black spots.  Flissa has always wanted a Mabari of her own.  Outwardly she tells everyone she can’t have one, she’s just a tavern owner, can’t afford the meat for one of those special beings to be in her life.  Deep down she knows she’ll never be picked, because Mabari don’t pick just anyone, and the choice can’t be forced.  “ ** _What do the stories say about Mabari?_** ”  Some stories say they stare deep into your spirit, seeing all you are, and all you could be.  No Mabari is ever going to pick a tavern owner.  She’s not special enough.

 

Across the room, the other Mabari, Hamish, gets up, woofing.  Uh-oh this could be trouble.  Mabari often vie for dominance.  Tail wagging slowly, Hamish approaches the newcomer, huffing and grumbling in the adorable way Mabari do.  At first the newcomer growls, until it starts sniffing, then it has its nose on Hamish, and Hamish submits.  Soon both their tails are wagging furiously, and they’re both huffing and grumbling exactly as if they’re talking to one another.  It makes her heart clench in a good way.  Mabari are a blessing and a gift.

 

Glad for their happy greeting, Flissa carries on filling ales, collecting money.  When her eyes glance at the window by the bar, she almost drops the mug in her hands in shock.  Where the Herald had been touching Hamish, is exactly where the newcomer had been sniffing, as if it could smell her.

 

Ale sloshes on the floor as her hands start to tremble.

 

Mabari see into your spirit.  Hamish, a Mabari, had greeted the Herald like she was his partner, as if seeing her was a blessing, as if she were a gift.

 

What had the elf said about her?  Mabari, Harts, Halla, and many more would be drawn to her.  They wanted to be close to her because she was a warm light.  Unbidden, various parts of the Chant of Light bloom in her mind, all to do with light in the darkness, fire, and a sense of something wraps itself around her until she can barely breathe through the rapture.

 

When the mug hits the floor, dropped from her nerveless fingers, she blinks, brought back to the here and now with a start, and the sense of understanding, faith, and certainty, fades from her.

 

Bereft, she leans against the bar and knows without any shadow of a doubt, the woman in the elf’s arms is the Herald of Andraste, Chosen by Andraste to lead Her faithful back to the Maker’s arms.

 

Happy woofing from the Mabari brings with it further understanding, the Herald of Andraste is so weak and helpless, because this is a test for all the people of Thedas, they must defend her as they did not defend Andraste.  Hamish hadn’t hesitated to defend her, because Hamish is a Mabari and would understand this already.

 

This changes everything.

 

Under the bar is a cudgel.  One Flissa rarely uses.  Time to bring it out again.  Next time the Herald is threatened, Flissa will be ready.  There will be no more tears from the Herald.  Flissa will not fail her again.

 

**oOo**

 

Overhead a crow has landed on the Chantry.  One of them watches it idly.  The other of them watches around them.  In front of them Mallory argues with an elven woman dressed in armour.

 

As if in passing they brush their hands against each other.

 

They’ve noticed a great number of elven people in Haven.  Their eyes seemed to be drawn to them.  Not all of them are servants, many of them are in armour, or robes.  Those in armour act similar to this woman, standing up to humans, walking among them, even giving some orders.

 

Their sister had been in the arms of an elf.  If rumour is to be believed she is married to him, even carried his child, a daughter, until the Templars got to her.  “ ** _An elf blooded child, like yours and Bella’s_**.”

 

This Inquisition is both exactly what they thought it would be; and nothing like they thought it would be.

 

“You stupid knife ear, get me someone I can talk to, someone with authority,” Mallory all but screams at the woman.  Unfazed by their cousin, the elven woman stands her ground.  “Are you deaf?  You slutten.  I’ll have you flogged for this!”

 

“Sister Leliana, Lady Cassandra, and Commander Rutherford are all in a meeting,” The elven woman says calmly.  “They are not to be disturbed short of the Breach reacting, or at the request of the Herald herself.”  Her words catch their attention.  The Herald is their sister.

 

As Mallory screeches obscenities at the elven woman, they brush their hands together again.  Maxwell is standing to one side gripping his arm where the Mabari attacked him.  Dean is wincing every time their cousin hits a particularly high note, which is a lot.  They are unobserved.

 

Their eyes lock and they nod to each other in perfect understanding.  There’s no need for words.  They only use them when they need to speak to other people.  Their beloved Bella had understood them, she hadn’t punished them for how they were born.  She had told them tales her mother had told her, of twins in elven lore, how they are never split up, how they are often considered one person in two bodies.  To her they were not Gareth and Mervin, two completely separate people, they were Garethmervin, one person split only enough to live in two bodies.

 

“Take you days to die, you pox ridden doxy!”  Mallory was hitting her stride in her tirade.  It clearly wasn’t working, yet she still refused to change tack, trying to bully her way in.

 

They were going to enjoy killing her.

 

She is the last of those sent by their grandmother to torture their beloved Bella to death.  Mallory had been the one to tell them where to find her body.  She had gloated at them, had told them in detail what she had ordered her men to do to their beloved Bella.

 

It has taken years.  But they have done it.  They have found all the men who hurt their Bella.  There is only Mallory left.  They thought they would have to kill each other after they killed Mallory.  Their grandmother would never allow anyone to kill her favourite and live.

 

And now their youngest sister, the last of the pure female line, the only possible true heir to the Trevelyan family, was alive.  And she was in the arms of an elf.  An extremely interesting man.  He’d not moved like any elf they’d met before now, not even their beloved Bella was that self assured.  When he’d backed away from them, he’d moved like an assassin.  He’d been the one the others looked to for direction.  And most telling of all their sister had clung to him trustingly.  She had willingly curled into him.

 

In that one moment everything changed for them.

 

**oOo**

 

Following her idiot brother, Herah keeps her temper in check.  No need to start yelling at him.  She has no idea why her little brother has fixated on Eevee so much.  Yes, she owes the woman her arm, and probably her life.  This is something more.

 

Solas, the fearless idiot, who goes toe to toe with the wrong people, and wins, is leading them down to the market area.  Eevee is huddling in his arms.  At least she isn’t crying anymore.  She winces at her own thoughts, they’re unworthy, and make her feel ashamed of herself.

 

Varric is on her heels, as they try and keep up.  This whole thing is going from bad to worse.  First the great big butt hole in the sky opened.  Then Eevee stabilized it.  Then she collapsed.  Now there’s this crazy human religious organisation.  Eevee’s still too weak to do anything.  Turns out her family are screwed up and…

 

And Herah can finally admit to herself, she can’t leave Eevee here with only Solas to protect her.  One man isn’t enough to take care of a danger magnet like Eevee.  They’re going to need help keeping her safe.

 

But it’s too dangerous to stay in Haven.  The humans are getting braver.  It won’t take them long now to push the boundaries and attack.  Herah really doesn’t want to be around when that happens.

 

A stray thought crosses her mind, “ ** _What if Solas and Eevee leave with you?_** ”

 

No.

 

This Inquisition would tear the place apart looking for their Herald.

 

Trying to push the thought away, it comes back.  For a few seconds she takes it seriously.  And then her eyes catch Eevee’s, her tears have dried up, and Herah finds herself caught in the pale blue orbs.  Her heart skips a few beats, not in that way, she likes her women more, well just more.  Eevee’s too quiet and calm.  Herah prefers her women to be more in her face and loud.  Also Eevee and Solas are so wrapped up in each other, she’s not sure they’re aware of other people in that way.  She’s had time to observe Solas and the man is so fixated on Eevee, she’s fairly sure he’s not noticed any woman, other than to work out how close they’re standing next to Eevee, for safety reasons.

 

She pities the idiots who think Eevee and Solas would ever give each other up.  Like Eevee’s crazy family.  There’s no way this pair will ever accept Eevee being married off to anyone else.  Or having her children sired by anyone but Solas.  Internally she winces remembering Eevee had been carrying Solas’ child.  Damn Templars.

 

She should leave, now, and take her brother with her.

 

And yet she already knows she’s going to follow these two, and she doesn’t understand why.  Her and Kaaras had been stuck on that fucking mountain, pinned down by demons.  Her arm broken by a demon, poison in her bloodstream, and then boom, the rift was closed.  A pale woman in an elf’s arms, healed her in moments, instead of days, and she walked up the rest of the mountain with them.

 

Against all odds they survived.  And somehow everything changed.

 

She keeps following Solas, wondering how they’re going to get out of this one.

 

**oOo**

 

Hand petting Hamish, he finishes his ale.  He’d finished his report a while back, but he’d ordered another ale anyway.  Inside was warm.  Outside was so cold it crept into your bones.

 

Glancing at his best friend, those big brown eyes gaze back at him.  From the moment he’d been lucky enough to be allowed to approach the litter of Mabari puppies, they’d been inseparable.  He still doesn’t know what Hamish saw in him.

 

No matter what life had thrown at him, Hamish had been there.  Friends may come and go, but Mabari are faithful to the end.  He’d be dead several times over if it weren’t for his friend.  He owes Hamish more than he can ever repay.

 

Gathering his papers he gets ready to go.

 

Hamish stands up with him, following at his side as they leave.  His best friend stays with him all the way through Haven, out the main gates, and into the camp.

 

In short order he’s handed in his report and heads out of the camp.  He needs some space.  Aimlessly wandering, he finds himself and Hamish, out by the big rock where the Druffalo gather at night.  Collapsing on the rock he stares at his friend.  A friend who is soon pressed up against him, getting scratches and hugs.  They stay like that for some time.

 

Questions start to crowd his mind.  He tries to ignore them but they creep back, relentless, and jabbing at him.  Plucking up his courage he askes, “Hamish?  Do you see a warm light when you look at the Herald?”

 

Heart in his mouth he waits as Hamish cocks his head, then nods and woofs.

 

Breath rushing out Finlay has to ask, “Do you want to be with her instead of me?”  If his voice cracks it’s because the wind is so damn cold.

 

He can’t lose Hamish.  He can’t.  He’s aware his hands have tightened on the Mabari’s fur so he can’t leave him.  When Hamish shakes his head and whines he resolutely does not cry.  The wind is sharp here, it brings tears to eyes, he is not crying.  Relief surges through him.  Hamish is still his best friend.  A warm wet tongue swipes his face, across his eyes, repairing the damage the wind had done.

 

They sit together and watch rams run around in the distance.

 

Overhead the Breach swirls peacefully.  Finlay shudders at the remembered horrors of those terrifying three days.  Demons, rifts, and the certainty they were all going to die.  He’d known there was a survivor.  A woman.  A mage.  And then new orders, charge up the mountain, distract the demons, so the survivor could get to the Breach.  Chaos, blood, fear, and exhaustion so deep he’d wanted to sleep for a week.  Then suddenly a booming crack from the Breach, and the Breach fell silent, peaceful, some of the smaller rifts even closed, pulling the demons back into them.

 

Rubbing at his stinging eyes he glares at the green glowing hole.  They’ve been staring at it for days.  Trying to recover from the madness and death.  Everything had felt so hopeless and bleak.  Just yesterday he’d been on duty near Threnn’s tent, when the famous Surgeon from Orlais had been speaking to the Lady Nightingale, she’d been so sure the Herald was going to die, and soon.  After hearing that, what was the point?  Only Hamish had kept his spirits up, and refused to lie down and surrender.

 

Pulling his friend closer for more ear rubs, he rests his face on Hamish’s neck.  This morning Hamish had forced him up and out of his bedroll, and raced to the main gates in Haven.  They’d gotten there in time to see the Herald alive, awake, and sitting on the back of a magnificent dancing Hart.  Above them the clouds had parted for the first time since the Breach opened.

 

When the three figures had stepped out of the Chantry, and declared the Inquisition reborn, he’d joined up.  How could he do anything else?  The Herald was with them.  She was.

 

He stops mid thought.

 

What had the knife ear said?  Something about Mabari, and Harts?  In his mind, the memory of the dancing Hart sits front and centre.  Groaning, he collapses against Hamish, “Maker’s Breath, what have I done?”  Understanding blooms too late.  His mother was always telling him to think before he acted.

 

Slowly, painfully, he recalls the moment the Herald had stepped into the Tavern.  Shame slams into him.  With hindsight, he can see how exhausted she was, she’d been leaning heavily on the knife ear.  The memory of the knife ear’s words cut into him, how they’d leave to get food elsewhere.  Oh Maker.  She wouldn’t have been able to eat while she’d been unconscious.  As soon as she’d woken, she’d gone straight to the Chantry, and there she had stretched forth her hand to bring about the Inquisition.  When would she have had time to eat?  Maker have mercy upon him, he was such a fool.  He should have given her his seat, he should have encouraged the others to leave, to give her peace to eat, and let her rest in the warmth of the tavern.

 

Shaken, he winces further as he recalls how her whole face had lit up at Hamish.  Her love of Mabari obvious for all to see.  Hamish had been so excited to see her, to the point the knife ear had to talk to him, to calm him down, to make sure the Herald wasn’t injured by him.   The Herald had had to cling to Hamish to stay upright; she was so weak from her ordeal against the Breach.

 

Ale he’d drunk earlier swirls in his stomach, threatening to come back up.  He’d tried to attack the Herald!  “Maker forgive me,” And why would the Maker ever forgive him?  He’d tried to do the unthinkable.  Thank the Maker the knife ear, dwarf, and Oxmen had reacted so smoothly.

 

Pausing, he watches as the almost altercation unfolds in his mind.  No.  Wait.  He frowns, thinking.  And then he groans again.  All four of them had reacted exactly as professional bodyguards should have reacted.  They’d protected the Herald, putting her behind them.  Blocked his path to her.  And then the knife ear had seemed to talk to him calmly.  By the end of it, there was no more chance of violence, and the Herald was swept up in the knife ear’s arms, like she belonged there, as her bodyguards prepared to leave with her.

 

Wanting to weep at his stupidity he clings to Hamish.  The knife ear, the husband of the Herald, had extended the hand of friendship to him.  Even after everything Finlay had done, the knife ear had understood, had been glad Finlay wanted to protect Hamish so much.  And what had Finlay done?  Spurned him.

 

No longer in the middle of the heated moment, Finlay even recognises the dwarf; Varric Tethras.  The same dwarf brought to Haven by the Lady Cassandra herself.  The same dwarf who went up the mountain with the Herald to battle the Breach.  Oh Maker.  He realises now the Oxmen with her, had been the two she’d rescued on the mountain, and who had protected her on her journey up the mountain.

 

“Oh Maker,” Finlay repeats knows there’s no coming back from this.  He’ll be executed for sure.

 

“ ** _Perhaps if you apologised?_** ” Invades his thoughts.  But the idea is stupid.  No noble would allow such an insult to pass unchallenged.  She’s a Trevelyan, a noble of the Free Marches.  And he’d almost attacked the Chosen of Andraste, a woman touched by the purist holiness.  If he’s lucky they’ll simply hang him.  “ ** _Try_** ,” He goes to shrug the idea away but it burrows in and won’t leave him.

 

Shamed, afraid, alone, he sits on the rock and shivers in the cold.  A warm wet nose snuffles at him.  Hamish is, against all odds, still by his side.  A sense of peace, warmth, and love wraps itself around him.  With it comes a plan.  It’s a stupid plan.  Yet every moment it grows stronger, until he’s sure of it.  He will find the knife ear, he winces, and corrects it to Ser Solas.  He will apologise to the knife ear, he winces, and corrects it to the elf.  He will kneel to the Herald.  And he will learn to think before he acts.

 

If she refuses him.  If she rejects him.  He can only hope she will care for Hamish as much as he does.  And that Hamish won’t follow him after his execution. 

 

Standing up, he starts the long walk back into Haven.  Time to apologise to both the Herald and her elven husband.  This is new to Finlay.  He’s never apologised to an elf before in his life.  It feels strange.  It feels like everything is changing.

****

** oOo **

 

“A room has been prepared for you,” The knife ear says calmly.  Max grips his arm tighter and hopes there are chairs.  He’s not sure his legs will hold him up much longer.  Damn dog almost tore his arm off.  He finally understands why Mabari are so feared on battlefields.

 

“Took you long enough,” Mallory sneers at her.  “I’ll be telling your Mistress about you.  And I’ll ask to personally supervise your punishment.”  Threats don’t seem to work on her.  If anything Max sees what could be amusement cross her face.

 

“I’ll be sure to tell Sister Leliana, Right Hand of the Divine your words myself,” The knife ear even sounds amused.  And Max can see her hand is resting on the pommel of a dagger.  She’s not cowed in the slightest.  “If you’ll follow me?”

 

Stepping into the gloom of the Chantry, his eyes struggle to adjust, as they stomp after the knife ear.  The same knife ear who walks like she owns the place.  No, she walks like Gareth and Mervin, dangerously.  She’s also wearing very well made leather armour.

 

Glancing around one of the holiest buildings in all of Thedas, he can’t help but notice there are a lot of knife ears in armour.  He counts them, and blinks.  There are twelve of them, including their guide.  Three elves to every one of them.  Mallory is still harping on at the knife ear, belittling her, telling her how she’ll be beaten, and worse.  While all around them, surrounding them, are very well armed elves, listening and watching them.

 

Uneasy, he shivers for some reason.

 

Shown to a room on the right, he walks in after Dean and Mallory.  Gareth and Mervin both pause, staring at the door opposite.  They do that strange thing they do when they look at each other.  Then one of them turns to the knife ear, “Our sister Evelyn was.”

 

The other one continues with, “Being carried by her husband.  In the Tavern.”

 

Then the first one picks up the conversation again, “We do not know where they went after the incident.”

 

Max is used to the surprised look on people’s face after they talk to the twins. No one can tell them apart.  And no one wants to spend time with them.  He shivers again.  They’re not natural.  He wishes they weren’t here.

 

When the knife ear gives them a salute, he’s completely shocked.  Her voice is respectful when she says, “Thank you.  I’ll pass it on immediately to Sister Leliana.”  Mallory catches the change in the knife ear’s attitude and swells to start another tirade.  “Please stay here.  We can’t guarantee your safety anywhere else in Haven.”

 

When the twins bow to the knife ear Max feels like the world was shaking around him.  Then one of them says, “Yes Scout.”  They back up and step into the room, shutting the door behind them.  The click of the door is loud in the silence.

 

Collapsing onto a chair, Dean sighed heavily, as Mallory gapes like a fish.  The twins take up stations either side of the door.  And suddenly it doesn’t feel like they’re protecting them from anyone coming through the door, but the other way around.  Something big has changed and Max has no idea what.

 

Looking around the room, there was a big chair by the roaring fire, and various other comfortable looking couches.  Picking one, he scurries over and sits down.  His arm is aching and he’s exhausted.  He wants this all to be over.  He wants the world to make sense again.

 

He also wants some lyrium.  Mallory has his supply, and hasn’t given him any for days, his withdrawal symptoms are getting worse.  Staring at the fire, he tries to blank out the throbbing in his arm, and his head.  “ ** _There are many Templars here_** ,” The thought bursts in, he idly wonders if they have lyrium.

 

** oOo **

 

Solas strides ahead of them, carrying Eevee like she weighs nothing.  He’d done the same down part of the mountain too.  Most elves were skinny, more bone than meat.  When Kaaras had hugged Solas earlier, he’d noticed the abundant, and firm, muscles.

 

This elf was a very unusual man.

 

Varric’s comment about Tevinter made perfect sense.  Where else would Solas have learned all those very strange and unusual things Kaaras has noticed?  Now it all fell into place.  A powerful elven mage from Tevinter would know all those things.  And what elf could survive for long in Tevinter, no wonder he’d left.

 

Ambling along behind them, Kaaras can see Eevee’s calmed down a bit.  She was resting in Solas’ arms but idly glancing around as she was carried.  He hates it when women cry, it makes him feel helpless.  And this woman was so defenceless, it was like picking on a new born puppy, you just shouldn’t do it.

 

He has no idea why he’s so protective of this woman.  Yes, he’s grateful to her for healing Herah.  But there was something else.  On the mountain, when the demons had them pinned down, when Herah had fallen, when all hope was fading away.  Suddenly a woman had hurtled into battle, shield bashing a demon away from him, magic had washed over him, and then just as quickly the fight was over.  He’d not gotten his breath back when green light fought the rift and it was forced to close.

 

Sheer desperation had him asking if any of them could heal.

 

When the elf had said his wife could, Kaaras had been shocked at him picking up some kind of creature to carry it over to Herah.  He’d been stunned when it had changed shape into a human woman.  A woman with the mark of the Tranquil, who had been quietly amused at his reaction to her; yet had treated his sister with such kindness.  Her voice had barely carried when she’d spoken to Herah.  And she’d leaned into the elf, her husband, like she belonged there.

 

Turning it over in his mind, he realises, that was the moment things changed.  He’d followed her up the mountain, guarded her, and watched her fall after attempting to close the Breach.  And he’d even braved the Chantry for her.

 

Carefully keeping his face blank, he watches the humans in Haven spit, or look down on the group.  And then he blinks.  “ ** _Eevee doesn’t act like them_**.”  Frowning he goes back over their first meeting, she’d been amused at his reaction to her shapeshifting, but other than that, she’d treated him, Herah, and Varric, as if they were people to her. 

 

Looking at her again, he can see she’s rested her head against the elf’s shoulder.  Under the Breach, she’d been a mouse, and the way she’d clung to Solas’ nose, as if she never wanted to let him go had wrenched at Kaaras.

 

Remembering the way she’d murmured to Solas in the Chantry, and the words he’d then relayed to the Mother, Kaaras’ lips quirk up.  This is one of the reasons why he’s so protective of her.  She’s a human and she’s different.  Special.  Not because of the thing in her hand, but because she’s Eevee.

 

His chief would be yelling at him right now.  He’s not getting paid and he’s risking his life.  Wherever Solas is taking them to talk, he hopes they get there soon.  They have a lot to discuss.

 

Eevee can’t stay here.  The humans who aren’t Eevee are too dangerous.  They need to get her out.  Bonus will be getting themselves out too.

 

**oOo**

 

Listening to the arguments raging in the group, Lysette rubs at her forehead.  So far they have enough lyrium, and will have for some time, as long as they ration it carefully.  Headaches and short tempers are rampant through the Templars left here in Haven.

 

Yesterday she’d agreed in principle with many of their ideas.

 

Right now, they’re grating on her nerves, rubbing her the wrong way.  Pinching the bridge of her nose, she can’t feel the red hot stabbings of lyrium withdrawal.  Why is she suddenly feeling like an outsider?  Why do they sound like fools and idiots to her?

 

Soft sobs seem to echo in her mind.

 

Getting up, she staggers out of the big tent.  She has to get away from these short sighted morons.  Heading for the icy lake, she sits on one of the pier’s wooden poles.  Taking a deep breath, tension leaks out of her.

 

Above them, the Breach is a beacon of twisted magic gone wrong.  Linked with the call from the Lord Seeker, she should be marching to his banner, working together with her fellow Templars to return order to a world gone mad.  Instead she’s sitting in the cold, on her own, wondering why her fellow Templars sound like madmen.

 

Rising in her mind, the memory of the elven mage Solas, calling out to her to do her duty is clear and feels right.  Here was a mage who wasn’t afraid of her.  Who trusted her to do her duty.  And she had done it.  Violence was averted.  Instead of blood, pain, and terror, there had been peace.  For the first time in days, weeks, months even, the world felt right.  She felt right.

 

“ ** _A Templar should know their duty._** ”

 

She’s not sure she knows what it is anymore.  She’s clinging to the old ways, the old things she used to be so sure of.  They aren’t working.

 

Falling back on her training, she recites parts of the Chant, but finds herself circling the same parts over and over.  All about truth and being honest with yourself.  A sense of something presses against her.  She’s not been honest with herself for some time.  If she had, she’d be able to admit Thedas hasn’t been right for years.  Chaos has been growing everywhere.  Even amongst the Templars.  Commander Rutherford was an example of a Templar who had withstood such chaos, and not broken.  And the Herald was an example of a mage who had been branded by such chaos, and she was so very.

 

Lysette breaks off and winces as the memory of the woman’s sobs stab through her.

 

She’s so used to mages being dangerous.  She’s not used to one being so very helpless.  But then the woman is a healer.  Traditionally they weren’t very aggressive, they were too obsessed with helping people.  And in a way she was healing the sky.

 

Going stock still, Lysette almost falls off her wooden post.  Healing the sky.  Maker, no wonder the woman had been picked to be the Herald of Andraste.  Of course a healer would be the best type of mage to hold such a huge level of power.  And this healer had already proven herself, travelling up the mountain, pitting herself against the Breach.  Lysette had been in the group under the Breach, she’d seen the woman’s attempt first hand.

 

Stunned Lysette sits there a bit longer lost in thought.  This shouldn’t change anything, yet it changes everything.

 

Her fellow Templars, apart from Commander Rutherford, all wanted to abandon this Inquisition, and flock to the Lord Seeker.  Yet both Hands of the Divine, and Commander Rutherford were flocking to the Herald, and through her to the Inquisition.

 

Frowning, she tries to decide where she should go, what she should do, when the thought, “ ** _You owe the Herald your life_** ,” trickles in.  And she does owe the woman.  The Herald had nearly died, she’d witnessed it.  She’d also noticed the woman hadn’t hesitated, had stepped out and raised her hand to the sky, to try and heal it.  “ ** _She did her duty_** ,” Comes another thought.

 

Again she remembers Solas turning to her, trusting her to do her duty.  To be the one standing between the mages and non-mages.  To prove the Herald’s innocence with the Mabari Hamish.  To foster peace instead of bloodshed.

 

Getting to her feet, she turns back towards Haven, time to do her duty.  Time to sign up to this Inquisition, pay back the debt of her life owed to the Herald, and to stand between the woman and the chaos, so the Herald could heal the sky.

 

Finally it was time to be a Templar who truly understood their duty.

 

**oOo**

 

Wincing at the high pitched screeches of his cousin, Dean resists the urge to stuff his fingers in his ears.  Mallory was only warming up.  There was hours of this to come.  He almost wishes the woman would lose her voice; it’d be peaceful for a few days.

 

Hiding his sigh, he watches as Max’s hands shake.  When his own future had been decided all those years ago, he’d been upset he wasn’t being sent to the Templars.  It was a legitimate way to escape his family, and more importantly his grandmother.  Now, however, he’s glad he never got sent to them.  Lyrium withdrawal wasn’t pleasant.  Mallory had more than enough of the blue stuff, she just withheld it from Max because she’s was a petty little streak of piss.

 

“No,” One of the twins said defying Mallory.  “We no longer take.”

 

The other one carries on with, “Orders from you.  We obey the.”

 

And back they go to the first one, “Herald and the true heir of Trevelyan.”

 

Like all of their family, he can’t tell them apart.  They’re so similar, he’s not sure even they can tell themselves apart anymore.  It’s also confused him for years, as to why they’re known as the twins, when most of his siblings are twins.  Max and Evelyn are twins, he’s a twin, though his twin is dead.  “ ** _Murdered_** ,” comes the thought.

 

Flinching at the thought, he unsuccessfully tries to block out the image of his twin’s body.  The murderous bastard their grandmother had sold her off to, under the guise of marriage, had killed her in their marriage bed, on the night of their marriage.

 

Her neck had mercifully snapped, killing her instantly.  But not before the piece of shit had hurt her.  One arm had been broken in several places.  Her face was a bruised mess.  Both legs were broken.  With effort he rips his mind away from the extremely long list of injuries.

 

He’s sick and tired of everything.

 

A soft sob fills his head.  Maker, Evelyn’s tears had ripped at him.  He’d failed his own twin.  She’d begged him to kill her, to make it quick, to give her mercy.  He’d refused.  She’d died a horrific death at the hands of her so called husband.

 

“Flay you alive for this,” Mallory breaks into his thoughts.  Instead of backing down from her, the normal reaction to one of Mallory’s little tantrums, the twins put their hands on their daggers.

 

Something has changed.  Something fundamental, if they’re willing to challenge Mallory, if they’re willing to challenge their grandmother’s authority like this.  They’d been obedient up to the point of the Tavern.

 

Evelyn’s sob echoes in his mind.

 

She’d looked so small in the knife ear’s arms.  So helpless.  She’d had her arms looped around the knife ear’s neck, so very trustingly, and she’d nestled into his neck.  Information they’d picked up even went so far as to say she was married to the knife ear.  She’d been round with his child when she’d been captured by Templars.

 

The child she’d carried had been a girl child.

 

Frowning he stares into the fire and blocks out Mallory’s idiocy.  Historically the Trevelyan line was matriarchal, which was perfectly logical, and he agrees with it.  Only those born from the pure female line were in the inner circle of power.  And again he agrees with this.  It’s his grandmother and her cruelty he disagrees with, greatly.  Every single female in the pure line had been squandered, sold, and bartered away to marriages with men no better than beasts.  He’d rather a Tevinter had married one of them, such a stain on their family was preferable to the reality.  At least some of them may have survived their marriages, had children, and Maker willing girl children at that.

 

Evelyn had been lost to the Circle.  He does remember sums of money being sent there.  He’s sure the excuse was to ‘take care’ of Evelyn.  Then suddenly she was Tranquil, and shortly after that dead.  What little information he’d managed to get his hands on, lead him to believe the Templar responsible had broken his Order’s laws.  This matches the information the knife ear had told them in the Tavern.

 

Contemplating quietly he starts to really envisage the future.  Without a female of the pure matriarchal line to be heir, the family would fall to infighting, and he knows their grandmother’s favourite, Mallory, would wade through blood, their blood, to make herself heir.  He shudders at the mere thought of Mallory becoming the Lady Trevelyan.  This cannot be allowed to happen.

 

But there was a true heir, there was Evelyn.  Evelyn was already married, and the marriage had already born fruit, the right fruit too, a girl child.  Bile rises at the mere thought of a knife ear touching his sister, let alone laying with her, fathering children.

 

Two images float in his mind.  His twin’s twisted, broken, abused dead body.  And Evelyn, alive, but in the arms of a knife ear.  Once again Mallory’s impression of a fish wife breaks his concentration.

 

Standing up, he turns, “Enough Mallory.”  She gapes at him.  “The twins are correct in their actions.  Evelyn’s protection is our priority. Demons roam Thedas unchecked.  We cannot risk her safety out beyond the walls of Haven, yet.”

 

While she’s still too shocked to pain his ears with more shrill prattle, he adds, “And her orders to us were clear.  They may have come from her husband,” It’s an effort not to grimace at calling the knife ear her husband.  “We must make amends to her.  And then I’m sure she, and he, will do their duty to the family.  After all, Andraste has already blessed their union with a girl child.  So we know they’re fruitful.”

 

He will cherish the sight of Mallory’s face for the rest of his life.  Everything has changed.  Her power is waning.  Evelyn’s is waxing.  With the title of Herald of Andraste, Evelyn will lead them to greater gains, and a better future than their grandmother ever has, or Mallory ever could.

 

**oOo**

 

Bringing up the rear, he watches Chuckles turn and lead them to the other ‘mess tent’.  The humans had a couple of nice big tents, with benches and tables, and a few fireplaces, some lanterns for when it got dark.  Everyone else had the area behind the barricades, no tent, no benches, no tables, no heat, and no light for when it got dark.  Newly cooked food went to the human mess tent.  Left overs, and food nugs would turn their noses up at, went to the other mess tent.

 

“Chuckles,” Varric calls out a warning.  The elf didn’t seem to live in the same world as the rest of them.  Rules, like what race you were, seemed to apply to everyone else not him.  Chuckles had argued with Curly, like he had a right to it.  Had stood up to the Seeker, like he was her equal.

 

“Yes Varric,” Chuckles calls over his shoulder, not even slowing.  Though Mouse peeked over his shoulder to look.  Poor kid.

 

“Chuckles, this isn’t a good place for a human to go to.  Especially not a human woman.  They’ll get the wrong idea about her,” Varric says.  Human women who messed about with non-humans didn’t fare well.  Even Hawke had suffered for loving the Broody elf.

 

Stopping suddenly, Chuckles turns, “How so Varric?”  There’s no way Chuckles doesn’t know.  No one can be that blind, especially if they used to live in Tevinter, and used to be a slave.  Mouse seemed as confused as Chuckles.

 

“No human goes there.  It’s for non-humans only,” Varric patiently explains.  Chuckles had been in the cabin for three days, maybe he didn’t know.  Of course, this means Varric’s uncle is a nug too.

 

“I see no signs proclaiming this,” Chuckles says it so calmly.  Though a small frown has appeared on Mouse’s face.  Stepping closer, the elf drops his voice, “And such wrong ideas can only arise if we foolishly decided to stay in Haven.”  Spinning around, the elf strides off again, leaving the three of them gaping after them.

 

“Shit,” Varric swears.  “He’s serious.”  He’s seen enough of Chuckles to know the elf just meant what he said.

 

“Come on,” Puppy says, hurrying after them.  Jinx is soon on his heels, leaving Varric behind to stare.

 

Hawke had never run away, she’d stayed her course, no matter what.  He’d not pegged Chuckles as a coward.  The idiot elf didn’t seem to fear anything.  Why was he running now?

 

“ ** _There’s a story here_** ,” Comes from nowhere.  Or did it?  There was something about Chuckles and Mouse.

 

On the mountain, under the smaller rift, Chuckles had been death to demons.  He’d commanded the few humans there like he was born to it.  His voice had rung out, it had brooked no disobedience.

 

And then suddenly the Seeker had appeared, bringing some ranged support with her, and an animal he’d never seen before.  The thing had grabbed on a demon, giving him the opening he’d needed to let Bianca shine.  He’s not sure if he’s more surprised by Chuckles picking the animal up the way he had, or that the Rift had closed.

 

When Chuckles had then all but collapsed with the animal, Varric realised this was the elf’s wife.  This was the Survivor herself.  Their reunion had been heart-warming and showed a softer side to the elf.  For those few moments, it was as if nothing else existed for the pair of them.

 

Looking back, that was the moment everything changed.  He simply had to know what would happen next.  And he hadn’t been disappointed.  Chuckles could shapeshift too.  Mouse could heal better than Blondie.  Rifts closed and stayed closed when she waved her glowing hand at them.  The Seeker was nice to her.  Leliana, the most terrifying thing on the mountain, was as kind as she could be to the woman.   And so much more.  There was a whole book in the journey up the mountain alone.

 

His hands itched to hold a quill.  His mind already beginning to string words together, testing them, searching for the perfect combination to tell the story.

 

The memory of the Tavern swims into his mind.  The Trevelyans threatening to take Mouse.  Chuckles refusing to back down.  And he nods.  Chuckles isn’t running away, he’s protecting Mouse.  Kid’s so harmless, she could get mugged by a nug.

 

Jogging to catch up, Varric knows he’s going to regret this, but he has to know what happens next.


	21. Ghost Of A Timeline Past

There’s no shelter from the wind here.  It cuts right through you.  Or it would if I wasn’t wearing the clothes Solas made for me, they’re toasty warm.  Everyone else in this area is shivering.

 

Everyone else is also standing and eating.  I’m the only one sitting down.  Solas found a broken crate for me to sit on.  Then he made me sit down, due to my exhaustion, said loudly enough it reminded me I’m faking a lack of mana.

 

Prodding at the unappetising, unknown slop in my bowl, I make myself eat another spoonful of it.  It’s not as bad as some hospital food.  I’ve had worse.  Everyone else I can see from this vantage point, shovels the food in as if they’ve never eaten before.  I’m beginning to suspect they haven’t, or at least not very often.

 

The others in our little group of five have finished their bowls.  I’m barely a third of the way through.  Long graceful fingers take my bowl from me, “Here Vhenan, I have clean water for you.”  Squatting down next to me, Solas holds a chipped wooden cup up to my lips.  “Slowly ma lath.”  I hadn’t realised how thirsty I am.  He’s right though, I can’t drink too quickly, or it’ll come right back up again.

 

When I’ve drained the cup, he places the cup on thin air, and it stays put.  I have got to learn how to do that.  “There, let your stomach rest a while.  When you are ready to begin again, I will reheat your food,” He offers.  I’m not sure heating it is going to make it any more appetising, or flavourful.

 

On the plus side, he does turn himself into a big white wolf and settles himself between my knees, allowing me to snuggle him and to pet his ears.  Therapy animals are amazing.  Very restful.  His actions do leave three other people standing around staring at us like we’re crazy.

 

And not just them, most of the people in the area are staring at us.  Won’t be the first time I’ve been stared at in public because of this.  People like to pretend they’re understanding and accepting, but go out in public, on a bad day, with your career, and they all stop and stare.  So, I ignore them.  It’s not my fault I struggle to keep food down now.

 

Trying to rest, I close my eyes and let Solas take some of my weight.  The faster I can recover, finish my food, and get some strength back, the sooner we can leave this shit hole of a town.  I don’t want to be here much longer.  At the rate I’m going, I won’t survive it.

 

“Er,” Kaaras says, lowering his voice.  “Why does Eevee need to rest her stomach?”

 

“Hmm?”  Solas moves in my arms but doesn’t move away from me.  “My wife rarely eats fast, or in one continuous sitting.  Ma asha has a few,” He pauses.  “Complications with her stomach.”  Mild way of saying I can projectile vomit across a room.  I’ve never understood why my muscles wasted away, except for my stomach ones which handle vomiting, they got stronger.  I could have been an extra on the Exorcist film set.

 

“Huh?” Is all Kaaras comes back with.

 

Sighing, Solas shifts his weight, “Eevee will vomit if she tries to eat too quickly.  This soon after waking, and suffering from exhaustion, it is best to err on the side of caution.  It also gives us all time to think and to plan.”  Ah, good opening gambit on the escape from Haven plan, so I open my eyes to indicate I’m ready to join in the planning too.

 

“Shit,” Herah curses.  “Eevee’s had exhaustion before?”

 

Nuzzling my hand, so I can stroke his face, Solas tells her, “Once to this extent.  And a few other times simply badly drained.”  I oblige him and even get a lick as a reward.  “Ma Vhenan also suffers from fits.”  I do?  “They are physically exhausting for her.”

 

Love explains, “ ** _Your panic attacks_**.”  Oh, yeah, those.  “ ** _They will appear as fits to most in Thedas.  Also, you have some symptoms of what you know as PTSD, even if you were never formally diagnosed._** ”  Probably because of my long list of stuff wrong with me, they ran out of room in my medical records.  “ ** _Untrue.  There is, and never was, anything wrong with you_**.”

 

“ ** _Love speaks true_** ,” Valour weighs in.  “ ** _You survived.  And you built a life.  You did more than you understand_**.”  Well I’m officially confused.  I guess they know what they’re talking about.  “ ** _Yes, we see you.  You are a light in the darkness_**.”  Huh?

 

“Chuckles,” Varric’s shaking his head, and then rubs a hand over his face.  “Well shit, this complicates things.”  It does?  Try living with it Mr Tethras, see how complicated it gets then.

 

“You need not concern yourself Master Tethras,” Solas doesn’t sound upset.  “I am more than used to caring for Eevee.  Once her mana replenishes, and she can shapeshift, our combined abilities at reconnaissance will serve us all well.”  He pauses, and then exaggeratedly licks his chops, “You will also learn my wife is an excellent cook.  Even with limited supplies, we will eat better than many nobles.”  Oh god I love cooking.  I had to give it up in the end, I was just too unsteady, and eventually I couldn’t eat most of what I cooked anyway.

 

“ ** _Remember child_** ,” Wisdom breaks into the conversation.  “ ** _You have magic now.  You have seen the small things Solas has done with his magic.  Imagine the many, unlimited, ways you could apply it for cooking_**.”  Oh fuck.  I hadn’t thought about it.  Solas can make things float in mid-air, I could float things over a camp fire and that’s just for starters.

 

Idly stroking Solas’ ears, and lost in thought at being able to cook again, I gaze off into the distance.  So many recipes are in my head.  “Fuck,” Now it’s Kaaras’ turn to curse.  “You really like cooking that much?”  Blinking, I crane my head to look up at him.  My lips curve up, and I may be beaming at him, even as I nod.  He nods back, “Okay, well that’ll be useful.”  He sounds doubtful.

 

“A full stomach is preferable to an empty one,” Solas butts in and presses more firmly against me.  “I admit to looking forward to one of your fish dishes.  Since being in Haven, a place filled with Ferelden peoples, I have mostly eaten stew,” His muzzle wrinkles.  “It grew tiresome after the first bite.”

 

From the other side of the area a high pitched screech grabs my attention.  A tiny, little, bundled up person just fell over.  Two adults are instantly at their side.  From here I can’t make out a lot of detail.  The adults are elves, a man and a woman.  The little person might be their child?

 

“ ** _Their daughter_** ,” Love says softly.  Already the father has his daughter up in his arms.  My sperm donor never did that for me.  She’s lucky to have a father who cares for her.  Her hood has also fallen down and I can see her ears are sticking out.  She reminds me of those kids who don’t fit their face as children, but then seem to grow into them as adults.  She’s totally adorkable, and with both parents fussing her, she’s calmed down.  I hope she didn’t hurt herself too badly.  “ ** _She is simply tired, the shock of tripping triggering the tears_**.”

 

My heart clenches, and the way she curves into her father, even as her mother is soothing her, Valour breaks into my thoughts, “ ** _Rose would have been very similar_**.”  Automatically one of my hands presses against my stomach, oh fuck, I was pregnant in the other time line.  “ ** _From his memories, we have seen Solas’ desire to be a father, to raise Rose with you, to spend time with her and you, together, as a family_**.”

 

Its words are like a punch to my gut.  I never even had the option of children before.  My body was missing the parts needed to have my own.  And I couldn’t adopt as I needed too much care.  The closest I got to children was Baron.  From him I learnt the reason why people call their pets their fur babies.

 

A wet tongue on my face snaps me back to the here and now.  Solas is watching me, head cocked to one side, the way dogs do, “Beloved?”

 

When the little giggle, from the little girl, floats across to us, my eyes are dragged back to stare at her.  One of my hands is still in Solas’ fur, and I know I’ve clenched my hand in it, because my other hand is clenched on my stomach.  All he does is press closer to me, until I murmur, “Rose.”  Then I suddenly have an armful of elf, and he sweeps me up into a fierce hug.

 

For some reason my hands appear to be shaking.  Actually I appear to be shaking.

 

“Well, shit,” Varric says.  For a writer he has a shocking small vocabulary.

 

Manoeuvred so my face is nestled into Solas’ neck, I discover this gives him access to whisper straight into my ear, “I am here MJ.  You are not alone.”  Clinging to him, I try and pull myself together.  I am not a weak idiot.  I refuse to fall to pieces.  When I’m ready, I pull back, he lets me, but does move so we can press our foreheads together.

 

His voice is ragged, emotional, and still annoyingly musical, even as incomprehensible Elven falls from his lips.  I have no idea what he’s saying.  I can pick out a few words, but it’s mostly a lyrical jumble of sounds.  Love helps me by translating, “ ** _My love, even after all this time, I still falter/stumble, I still underestimate you.  You change everything.  Who among us could mourn a child unmade/unravelled by time?  One they had never met?  Your love is without limits/boundless_**.”  Very poetic, but I don’t really understand it.

 

Grey eyes with a hint of blue stare into mine, he’s doing the intense thing again.  Surrounded by people who think I really am the original Evelyn, I’m fairly certain it’s best they don’t find out the truth about me.  Love comes to my rescue, and translates my words into Elven I can parrot back to him, giving the general gist of, “But she was real.  And she was ours.”

 

Studiously ignoring the single tear, which I refuse to admit has escaped from one of my eyes, I get to see its twin head for freedom down his face.  “Vhenan,” His voice breaks on the word.  Moments later I’m grabbed off of the crate, and suddenly he’s sitting on it, with me in his lap.  He buries his face in my neck, which forces mine into his, as he chokes out more words in Elven.

 

Love comes to my rescue again, “ ** _Never again shall we part.  My path with yours is woven/interlaced/inseparable.  Our fates entwined.  Forgive my foolish weaknesses/failures.  Rose’s death/loss is the last you will suffer, I swear this_**.”

 

In the game, Solas was a very outwardly controlled character.  This man is anything but.  How the hell did he fake it last time?  Also his words aren’t right, so Love helps me translate into Elven, “She was your daughter too.  And your grief is as real as she was.”

 

Against my body, his shoulders start to shake.  My resolve not to cry is tested but I do hold firm.  My eyes might be suspiciously damp, but I hold it together.  I keep him tight in my arms and let him vent some of his grief.  No one interrupts us, and when I do peek out, the three of them have retreated a bit to give us some privacy.


	22. Best Laid Plans

Solas’ shoulders have stopped heaving, but he hasn’t yet lifted his head.  I don’t rush him.  How long did I take in the past to recover from emotional bouts?  My therapists never kicked me out.  They let me recover in my own time.

 

I can be honest with myself, I need time too, I’m reeling from everything that’s happened.  One moment I’m dying, slowly, being eaten alive by my own body, the next I’m in a fictional world, in a body that isn’t dying, surrounded by huge amounts of violence.  Oh, and it turns out I nearly had a child, a little girl, in another timeline.  And an ancient trickster wolf god thinks he’s in love with me.

 

At the start I thought this was all a dream.  A side-effect of the medication I was on.  It’s all too real though.  There are too many things to explain away, like the snot slowly drying on the side of my neck, from the ancient trickster wolf god, grieving over our lost child.

 

Off to one side, three people are awkwardly trying to give us space, while keeping an eye on us, and not look like they’re keeping an eye on us.  We really do need to put our heads together and plan our escape from Haven.  Though if I ran away from Haven before, with only Solas by my side, then we can do it again on our own, if we can’t go with the others.

 

“Tethras,” A man yells loudly.  Twisting my head I get to see a dwarf storming over to the group.  He was there at the remains of the Sacred Temple.  He’s wearing the same leather armour, but his helmet is off, so I can see his tattoos on his dark skin.  In the game Cassandra had the long part of her hair up in a braid, and Scout Harding had a braid, this dwarf also has one, his black hair up and out of the way.  I don’t remember seeing men with braids on Earth.  Thedas really is different.

 

Varric must know the man, as he nods, “Edric.”  The pair of them go into a huddle, with Kaaras, and Herah towering over them.  It starts getting pretty heated, their body languages changing to confrontational.

 

“No,” Kaaras all but growls it and folds his arms over his chest.  Herah mimics him, while Varric shakes his head.

 

“Be reasonable,” This Edric says loudly, then drops his voice so I can’t hear him anymore.  Against my neck Solas’ ear twitches and he emerges from his grieving to look over at the group.  Can he hear what the man’s saying?

 

“ ** _Yes_** , “Love says.  “ ** _He can hear every word, his hearing is much better than most people’s.  At the moment, Varric is attempting to talk Edric into letting you join the exodus tonight.  Edric is one of the main planners of the groups seeking to flee.  It would be easier if you could be slipped into a current group_** ,” Makes sense.  But why are they putting me in a group and not Solas?  “ ** _They are happy to accept Solas, he is a proven survivor, and he is elven_**.”  Okay, I’m confused.

 

I’m aware of Wisdom moving closer to me, “ ** _In the Chantry your rounded ears marked you as acceptable.  Here they do the opposite.  They want no human in any of the groups.  They do not trust humans.  And you are the Herald, they want nothing to do with you. They rightly fear the repercussions if they are caught with you in their midst_**.”  Well shit, I mentally echo Varric’s phrase.

 

“Forget it,” Herah changes her stance, it looks like the one just before she attacked demons on the mountain.  This time it’s Kaaras who mimics her.

 

Edric does the placating hand move Varric normally does.  “You know how they’ll view it.”  They go back into a huddle.  I don’t think it’s going well.

 

Face an absolute tear-streaked ruin, Solas shakes his head, “Fools.  Short sighted idiots.”  With his nose all blocked up, he sounds like he has a cold.

 

Clearing my throat softly, to get his attention, I ask, “Do we have to go with them?”

 

Puffy, red rimmed grey eyes with a hint of blue, stare at me.  An eyebrow is lifted, “You wish to stay in Haven?”

 

“Well no,” I tell him.  “A snowflake in a desert has a higher chance of survival than I do right now,” Falls out of my mouth before I can censor it, his lips quirk.  “I meant, last time you got me out of Haven right? Just the two of us?”  He nods, so I rush on with, “This time I already have some mana back, enough to shapeshift into a mouse.  You can turn into a wolf.  Getting us out should be easier for you this time.”  His expression doesn’t change, “Don’t forget, you already know a path out of here, because you took it last time.”  Then I remember, “But what about Varric, Kaaras, and Herah?  How will they get out safely?”

 

“Hmm,” His eyes unfocus as he appears to think about this.  “You raise excellent points vhenan.”  I did?  Awesome, I’m being helpful, instead of being useless.  “You are correct that fleeing for us is now much easier.  As a pair we can slip away almost unnoticed, and untraceable.  Our companions would slow us down and make us easier to detect.”  Fuck it, I like them, I don’t really want to leave them.  “However, should any fights occur, they would be invaluable.”

 

“So we can keep them?”  I blurt out and then wince.  “Fuck, sorry, they’re not things, I know I can’t keep them, because they’re people,” I start to babble.  “But I really like them, they seem nice, and,” Trailing off I see Solas nod.

 

“I understand Beloved,” He presses our foreheads together.  “Should they choose to stay with us, you will be forced to walk, to keep up the pretence of mana exhaustion.  I will not be able to carry you as a Hart, the route is too uneven for my hooves.  There is also the option of parting with them now, and meeting up with them outside of Haven.  We shall see what path they choose.  Come, let us join their discussion.  Before they come to blows,” A flash of humour crosses his eyes.

 

Helping me get to my feet, he’s soon up too, and I thread my arm through his, so I can lean on him to walk over to the group.  Walk, not shuffle.  I remembered at the last second to lift my feet more.

 

As we reach them, they break out of their huddle, and watch us.  Varric gestures to the dwarf, “Mouse, Chuckles, this is Edric.  Edric, these are Mouse and Chuckles.  Who are going with us,” He says the last bit, slowly, and with a certain amount of firmness.

 

Solas stands up straighter and nods to Edric, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance Edric.”

 

This close I can see the man much clearer.  His twin daggers’ handles are worn in places.  There are patched repairs on his leather armour.  And his eyes are a dark colour of some sort, which he narrows as he stares at me.  “A pleasure to meet you Solas,” Edric says, his emphasis on ‘you’.

 

If I hadn’t already been through Haven, and seen for myself how the other humans were reacting to the races here, I’d be taken aback, and maybe even offended.  However, I’m not a complete fucking idiot, so I don’t blame him, though Solas stiffens next to me and puffs himself up a bit.  Looking up at Solas, I tap his arm to get his attention and whisper to him.  He frowns, his mouth puckering, but he does listen to everything I say.

 

When I’ve finished Solas turns back to Edric, “My wife would like to take this opportunity to thank you.”  Edric blinks, and Solas continues, “You fought along side us all, in the Temple of Sacred Ashes, under the Breach, and with your help and skills, my wife was able to stabilise the Breach.  Because of you, and your brave actions, Thedas now has time to discover a way to close it, permanently.”

 

Staring at us, Edric’s jaw sags a little.  I can see Varric turn his head away, a smile tugging at his lips.  I discovered early on a few ways to deescalate some situations.  Yelling rarely works.  Yelling often makes things worse.

 

Shaking himself, Edric says, “Um, you’re welcome?”  Saying sorry, or thanking people, often puts them on the back foot.  Well, most people, there are those it doesn’t work on, and I’m extremely wary of them.  People without a conscience usually ignore the tactic, it bounces right off them.

 

Since my sperm donor’s crimes were against so many victims, the court proceedings were widely followed by the media.  Can’t have a trusted doctor, specialising in children, doing what he did, and in the time period he did, without people getting nosey.  Back then, that sort of thing didn’t happen.  Well it did, but no one talked about it.  Me going to the press with picture, and video evidence, was a huge thing.  The police had to get involved, this couldn’t be swept under the carpet and ignored.  As a child myself, before my accident, I learnt how to fake a pretty good smile.  I use it now on Edric.  What is the saying?  Something along the lines of smile at your enemies, it confuses them.

 

Herah says, “Edric was just telling us why Eevee can’t leave Haven with us.”  She doesn’t appear to understand subtlety, or tact.

 

“Oh?” Solas lifts his eyebrow at Edric.

 

Squaring his shoulders, Edric says, “I’ve already told them.  She’s a human.  And she’s the frigging Herald of Andraste.  The humans aren’t going to let us just take her.  They’re already all worked up.  They’ll kill us all.”

 

“I see,” Solas’ tone says he doesn’t see.  “Have any other humans asked to leave with you?”

 

“What?” Edric’s jaw sags again.  “No,” He splutters.  “Of course not.  Why the hell would they want to talk to the likes of us?  And no ones heard them plotting to leave.  Andraste’s tits, most of them are cosying up to the Inquisition, the crazy bastards.”

 

“You have no wish to join the Inquisition?” Solas asks calmly.  Now I see why he was able to hide the first time around.  All his emotions are hidden away.  Only the ravages of the crying fit give any clue to his grieving.

 

This time Edric’s jaw drops open completely, “Are you touched?  I’m a dwarf!  Dwarves can’t be in the holy and precious Inquisition.  If the humans didn’t need us for lyrium they’d have wiped us out Ages ago.”

 

Even though I agree with his second statement, I stiffen at his first one.  Fuck no.  Anyone can join the Inquisition, species is not a requirement, or a barrier.  Tugging at Solas’ sleeve I urgently whisper to him, he nods and tells Edric, “The Herald of Andraste disagrees with you.  She believes you would be perfect as a member of the Inquisition. Being a dwarf is not a barrier to joining her Inquisition.  She does, however, agree most humans would wipe out all peoples, including themselves, if they could.”

 

Varric outright laughs at Edric, “And that’s why we’re not leaving her behind.”

 

Looking like he’s been slapped across the face with a wet fish, Edric goes on to do an amazing impression of a fish, mouth opening and closing soundlessly.  Suddenly he nods jerkily, “Right, fine.  I’ll talk to the others, but she’s your responsibility,” He spins on a heel and scuttles off at high speed.

 

I don’t understand.  Why did he change his mind?

 

Sighing heavily, Kaaras rubs his forehead, “We need to come up with our own plan.  They’re not going to let us go with them.”  Looking straight at me he says, “I’m not going to let you and Solas fend for yourselves.  You can rely on me, and my sword, to protect you.”

 

“Little brother,” Herah is shaking her head.  “You know we’re not being paid for this?  Right?”

 

“Herah,” He crosses his arms.  “Are you really going to let Eevee and Solas face the world alone?”

 

He’s barely finished speaking when she slumps, “No.  Of course not.”  Shifting her weight on her feet, she heaves a sigh, “I just want to get out of this alive.”

 

“We all do Jinx,” Varric stretches up, and pats her elbow.  “I’ve been in some bad scrapes, but this?”

 

Interrupting him, Solas says, “Varric, Herah, Kaaras.  Please.  We understand if you cannot continue on this path with us.  My wife wishes to leave Haven.  It is not safe here for us.  It is not safe here for you, or anyone not human.”  I find myself nodding, it really isn’t safe.  “My speciality is the Fade.  I have learnt how to walk through my dreams, and even find knowledge in memories long forgotten.  While guarding my wife, and searching for the moment she regained enough consciousness to enter the Fade, I also found the memory of a disused trail out of Haven.”  Smooth.  And it opens the door to all his ‘in the Fade’ knowledge cheats.

 

They stare at him, then Kaaras asks, “How disused?  How overgrown?  Is it suitable for Eevee?”

 

“At least ten years.  At this period of the year it is not overgrown.  Normally my wife would be able to use it with no issues, at the moment she will require some assistance,” Solas doesn’t hesitate and answers the questions immediately.

 

“We can work with that,“ Herah brightens up.  “We might actually get out of this alive.  So what supplies do we have between us?  And what are we going to need?”

 

They start talking about rations and camping gear.  I’ve never been camping before.  Any holidays we went on when I was a young child were to villas.  After the accident, and my emancipation, I wasn’t able to go camping then either.  Back when my mobility was better, there wasn’t all the work being done, to give greater access to disabled people.

 

Turns out we have depressingly little in the way of supplies.  All our camping gear has been seized for the Inquisition.  We only have the clothes on our backs.  And in their cases the weapons on their backs.  Solas and I are little better off, as Cassandra handed over his backpack, which is why I have a set of crochet hooks, and he has some cooking gear.  No one has any spare clothes, except me, and that’s only a nightdress.

 

Varric has conjured up a stub of a pencil to scribble things down on a scrap of paper, “Seggrit is a thief on pricing.  Let me do the talking, and the bargaining.  We’ll get what we can at his stall.  Anything else, well,“ He shrugs.  “We can make do, or I’ll see what I can find, just laying around.”  I nod in agreement and then stop.  Did he mean laying around?  Or did he mean steal?

 

“ ** _Steal_** ,” Love says.  “ ** _He is a good thief himself.  If it comes to it, we will help him, and make him harder to spot_**.”  The Spirits would help someone steal?  “ ** _Under normal circumstances, no.  We understand why this is different.  And you will need the supplies.  We will help him bargain at the market stall, all the needed supplies are with the merchant.  If Varric can buy all the supplies, he will not need to steal.  We would prefer this outcome_**.”

 

“Agreed,” Solas says.  “We shall be guided by you in this Varric.”  He pauses and looks at me, “We shall go as soon as Eevee has finished her food.”  Oh joy, not.  “Come my love, let me heat your food for you.  It will help you regain your strength.”

 

Huffing a sigh, I let him lead me back to the broken crate, so I can eat.


	23. The Market of Haven

Seggrit’s stall is at least six times bigger than in the game.  It’s in the same place, with more wobbly tables covered in a variety of goods.  In the game I’m sure it’s mostly weapons and armour.  In reality, it’s everything.

 

When we got here, Varric made a beeline for Seggrit, they’re still standing off to one side talking.  Varric’s all relaxed and chilled.  Seggrit’s getting more and more agitated.  But then, Varric’s a Merchant Prince for a reason.

 

Holding up some green material, Solas inspects it, before putting it back.  I have no idea what half this stuff is.  I’m aware this a groaning table full of clothes.  I just don’t know what type of clothes they are.  Thedas fashion bears almost no resemblance to Earth fashion.

 

Strangely Kaaras is right in there with him.  They’re working from opposite ends of the table towards each other.  Occasionally they stop to discuss materials, size, shapes.  I don’t get it.  Some of the clothes go into a pile, the rest get put back.

 

Bored I look over the other goods.  There are the weapons and armour, off to one side, with some shields, and sets of armour, attached to the big wooden fencing that’s supposed to protect Haven.  There’s the clothing table.  A table with cooking pots, ladles, plates, and cups.  One with books, and paper.  And so many more.  Finally, I spot one with things on I understand; Balls of yarn.

 

Perking up, I take a slow step towards it.  Instantly Herah is by my side.  With everyone else busy, she was nominated as the default guardperson.  You know, just in case I get attacked by a small bug.  I probably shouldn’t joke, knowing my luck, I’ll get beaten up by a small harmless bug.

 

I’m really glad Solas got me to practice walking.  With him occupied clothes shopping, I have to support myself.  I’m not fast.  But I am steady on my feet.  Reaching the table feels like an achievement.  And I didn’t drag my feet once.  Pleased with myself I look over the table.

 

Most of its useless to me.  I can’t sew to save my life.  I ignore those bits.  Ditto on the knitting needles.  I don’t need crochet hooks, Solas already got those for me.  I turn my attention to the yarn.  There are a few balls, most of them are skeins.  All colours, all weights, all types.  There’s even a basket for storing yarn.  I don’t drool, but it’s a close thing.

 

“ ** _We know a great deal about the various yarns, and the types of items they are best at making_** ,” Wisdom tells me.  Oh god, this can’t get any better.  If they know what I can make with each type of yarn, this is going to be so easy.  “ ** _When you dream, we can help you remember the more obscure patterns.  Or work with you to design new ones_** ,” I think I died and went to crochet heaven.  Reaching up, I check I haven’t started drooling.

 

Thankfully my mouth is drool free, so I can reach out to the yarn on the table, to run a finger over the skeins.  They feel similar to Earth yarn, yet some of them are subtly different.  It quickly becomes apparent there is only one of each skein, which is stupid, as most crochet projects need more than one skein.  Unless I go multi-coloured stripes?  Or do smaller projects?  But those won’t be very useful.  Maybe socks then?

 

Lost in my musings, I jump when a man clears his throat, “Are you interested in any particular yarn?  I can then bring out all the corresponding skeins and colours for it.”  Where Seggrit is blonde, this guy is dark haired.  Where Seggrit simply accepted us, and is still animatedly arguing with Varric, this guy is almost looking down his nose at us.  Which can’t be easy, he has a small pug nose.

 

Then I realise what he’s said and beam at him, there’s more yarn.  Contemplating my choices I decide the first thing we’re all going to need is a blanket.  Wisdom guides me in pointing to the right yarn.  Its right, this yarn is soft, light, but thick, and close to the blanket yarn I’m used to on Earth.  It also tells me the fibres will trap more body heat, yet they’ll also repel dirt, and moisture.  Perfect.

 

Seggrit’s sales assistant sniffs and walks off to an area with huge crates in it.  He doesn’t even rummage around, picking up a woven basket thing.  If this was Earth, I’d say it’s a stackable crate, as this Thedas, I’ve no idea if they have the same kind of containers.  He carries it over to the table and plops it down on top of the other things on display.  To my surprise there are more woven containers inside, all of them filled with the same kind of yarn, but in different colours.

 

If I was alone, I’d fist pump, squeal, and then really embarrass myself.

 

“Vhenan,” Solas says from behind me, his arms smoothly wrapping around my middle, helping me stay steady.  “What treasures have you discovered?”  His face rests against mine, his chin over my shoulder.

 

“Yarn,” I mutter to him, at no point is there gloating in my voice.  Well, maybe a little.

 

His warm chuckle goes straight into my ear, “Ah, I see.  And you have already picked the type you are interested in.”  He reaches out and picks a skein up, rubbing a strand of yarn between his thumb and a finger.  “Hmm, spider silk, with Druffalo undercoat fur, and the fibres from the stalk of the Blood Lotus.  I believe this is perfect for blankets?”  I nod agreeing with him, internal slavering at the thought of all the new fibres I can learn about.  “What colours are you dreaming of for this blanket?”

 

Shrugging I wave my hands at all the yarn.  There’s practically a rainbow on offer.  Reds are drawing me in for Varric.  Purples for Herah.  Greens and browns for Kaaras.  As for Solas there’s a shit lot of blues, and greys.  All of them are solid blocks of colour, they don’t ombre like some do on Earth.  Maybe I can dye my own?

 

“Such choice my love,” Solas sounds like he’s finding this amusing.  “How ever will you pick?”  I honestly don’t know.

 

“Eevee knits too?”  Kaaras asks as he joins us at the table.  In his arms are some clothes.

 

“No, my wife crochets,” Solas tells him.  “She often says two sticks are too hard to deal with.  One stick with a hook is far superior.”  I have said that in the past.  Admittedly it’s driven more by my jealousy of knitters, because I envy them their skills.

 

“Pup,” Varric is strolling towards us, Seggrit in tow.  “You and Chuckles finished looking?”

 

“Yeah, one set for each of us,” Kaaras brandishes the fabric in his arms.  “You got the rest?”

 

Seggrit looks sour, “You mean did he beggar me?  Rob me blind?  Take my stock at prices bandits can’t steal it at?”  His voice is shockingly deep.  “Then yes.  He did get everything.”

 

“Now, now,” Varric moves his hands placatingly.  “Business is business.  And you know the prices we’re paying are more than fair.”  Seggrit’s face says otherwise.  “We’ll take these off your hands, and pay for them, with coin.  We’re not requisitioning your stock, and paying you with a thank you note, like the Inquisition is.”

 

My head jerks up from staring at yarn, to stare at Varric.  Did he really just say that?  Is that really happening here?  The Inquisition is stealing?  “ ** _Yes_** , “Valour says.  “ ** _All non-humans have been removed from their previous sleeping areas.  Their useful things taken from them, if they could not hide them fast enough.  And there were more merchants here, their stock taken forcefully from them, they were beaten when they resisted.  Seggrit avoided the earlier sweep, because he convinced them his political ties are worth more than his goods.  His claims have been disproven and he will be losing his stock very shortly_**.”

 

WTF?

 

This is not what the Inquisition should be doing.  This is not the message it should be sending.  In this moment and time, the Inquisition is supposed to be a beacon of light in the darkness.  It isn’t supposed to be a bigger bunch of arseholes than everyone else.  We’re standing in a place called ‘Haven’, the word, literally, means a place of safety and sanctuary.

 

How dare they.

 

How fucking dare they!

 

A soft soothing sound comes from Solas, his hand gently squeezes one of mine, which has curled into a fist.  I’m shaking in his arms.  And I’m so angry.  Everything I’ve seen of this Inquisition so far is making me angry.  This Inquisition is wrong on so many levels I can’t even begin to unravel it.

 

No wonder I walked out on them the first time around.

 

Twisting my face into Solas’ cheek I hiss, “We’re leaving.  Now.  As soon as Varric’s paid for this stuff.  I will NOT stay here a moment longer than I have to.”

 

Grey eyes with a hint of blue narrow, he pauses, nods, and asks, “You do not wish to wait for the cover of darkness?”

 

Revolted by the Inquisition’s actions I want to run from this place.  I’ll settle for walking out.  “No.  We’re going to walk the fuck out of this shit hole, in daylight, and through all the main gates.  I will not skulk.  I will not hide.”

 

Eyes widening, he says, out loud, “They will try and stop us Vhenan.”

 

“ ** _We will help you_** ,” Valour tells me.  A roll of thunder deafeningly rumbles in the cloudless sky.  It matches my mood perfectly.  In my head is a raging storm.  I almost want to unleash it on these arseholes.

 

“They will fail,” I tell Solas.  “We are leaving.  We will bring about the true Inquisition, and these fucking bastards, can rot, for all I care.”

 

All my bravado gets me, is a kiss on the forehead, followed by him turning to the others, “Varric, please pay for our items.  Kaaras, can you help him pack them up?  Herah, please be so kind as to go to our, former, cabin, to retrieve our few things for us.  We are leaving here, immediately.”

 

The others all argue.  I crane my head to look at them.  One by one they go quiet, and all Varric says is, “Shit.  Shit.  Maker’s balls, you mean it.”  I have no idea what they saw in my eyes, but it did the trick.

 

On my hand the Mark spits green light, causing Seggrit to startle, saying, “Maker, you’re her.  The Herald.”  He gives me a small bow of his head.  “I’m honoured you came to my stall Lady Herald.”  Waving a hand at Varric he adds, “Take it Tethras.  It's yours.”  Shaking his head, “It won’t be long before they come and take the rest of my stock.”  Bitterly he tacks on, “Damn Inquisition, this whole thing is bad news.  If it wasn’t the end of the world, I’d pray the Maker guides them all off a cliff”

 

Nope.

 

Just nope.  Thedas needs the Inquisition.  My Inquisition.  It must inspire hope.  Not despair.

 

Tapping Solas’ hand, I start whispering in his ear.  We have to stop a few times, so he can speak my words, and then I can tell him more of them.  “Master Seggrit, would you like to join the true Inquisition?”  The man gapes at us.  Solas holds up a hand, forestalling him, “If you think being a merchant is a barrier to you, you are quite mistaken.  The true Inquisition was conceived by Divine Justina herself.  And she was a woman of peace.” Mostly, she was mostly a woman of peace.  “A woman of vision, of wisdom, and hope.  She brought about a truce and called for talks between Templars and Mages.  Here, in this most sacred of places, she place our feet on a hard path.  A difficult path.  But a strong path.  One to lead us all out of the chaos engulfing Thedas.”

 

Wisdom helps me form this properly, so it makes sense, and then Solas uses his amazing voice, “Economy, trade, is one of the foundations of order.  As a merchant, your skills will help rebuild Thedas.  Under the merchants, goods will flow to where they are needed most.  And yes, coins will follow.  Meaning taxes.  Money for reconstruction.  Food for the hungry.  And so much more.

 

“Join us Seggrit.  Help us fulfil the Divine’s vision for Thedas.  Stand with us.  Lend your voice to ours.  Divided, we will fall to the raging chaos.  United, together, we will not only weather these terrible storms, we will emerge victorious.”  Seggrit’s eyes find mine, and our gazes hold as I continue to whisper to Solas.  “And from these ashes, we will heal Thedas, we will rebuild Thedas, we will be the beacon in the darkness for all the peoples of Thedas.

 

“Please.  We cannot do this alone.  We need everyone,” Solas must have had public speaking lessons.  These are my words, with help from Wisdom, and I’d join up.  “From the highest, to the lowest, all have a place in the Inquisition.  All are needed.  All are welcome.  There is so much to do, only a force dedicated to peace, to healing, can succeed.”

 

Not once has Seggrit looked away from me.  Around me the Spirits press against us, Solas’ hand tightens minutely and then relaxes.  Silence falls, the wind howls, and then Seggrit stirs.  Hand going across his chest, he bows, “Lady Herald, if you would have me, I would follow you, I would join your Inquisition.”

 

Holy shit.  I think the stirring speech thing actually worked.  I didn’t even know what I wanted it to do.  Except no one should think the Inquisition is bad news.  Well, no one except the bad guys.

 

“Welcome to the Inquisition Seggrit,” Solas greets him.  “Gather what things you need for the road.  We are leaving Haven immediately.  It is too dangerous for us to flourish and grow here.”

 

Suddenly everyone is in a hurry.  Varric and Kaaras are packing our things into leather knapsacks.  Herah speeds off to our old cabin.  And Seggrit is taking Solas seriously, getting a surprisingly small pack of his own.  His assistants are only a step behind him, gathering their own items.

 

Surrounded by this whirlwind of activity I lean back into Solas.  None of this was in the game, I’ve no idea what happens next.  Or how the ‘Council’ of the Inquisition is going to react.  I doubt they’ll take us leaving well.


	24. A Journey Interrupted

Well that escalated quickly.

 

One moment the five of us, Seggrit, and his sales assistants, are getting ready to leave.  The next all the non-humans at Haven turned up to leave with us.  And I mean all of them, bar those sworn to Leliana’s service.  Most of them are servants of one type or another.  Only a few are combatants, and they tend to be of the bow wielding variety.

 

Seggrit took one look at the ragged mob and gave them clothes off his stalls.  At the very least they’re dressed for the winter weather.  And everyone has two days of hard rations.  He was even generous enough to hand out weapons to those who know how to use them.  Mostly bows.  One of the tattooed elves took a staff instead.

 

Where have I seen him before? 

 

Oh, yeah.  He was with the scouts on the mountain.  The ones pinned down by the rift and demons.  The other elf, the female one, is with him as well.  She’s only got a bow and daggers.  He’s favouring the staff, with daggers too.  Both of them have black hair, long, in a single braid.  Both of them have those Dalish blood tattoos on their dark skin.  His are a pale yellow and green, small, simple, starting at his nose and sweeping under his eyes like the horns of a Hart.  Hers are a shocking almost electric bright red, one half of her face is blocked out in the tattoo, with sharp looking vines or brambles twisting through it, which aren’t tattooed, the other side is a reverse mirror with the red tattoo now made up of the sharp looking vines or brambles.  All I can think of is ‘ouch’.

 

On the mountain they’d stood off to one side, not mingling.  They’re doing the same here too.  Though he’s at least smiling at people.  She’s scowling and seems one breath away from going totally berserk on those around them.

 

There are other staff wielders in this motley group.  Not many.  Maybe five in total.  One of them is the woman you take monster bits to.  Name begins with M, something or other.  Around her are seven Tranquil, all human.  Poor bastards.  They give me the heebie-jeebies.  Though as Love pointed out, they are the most traumatised of everyone here.  I wonder if they’d benefit from a therapy dog each?

 

A loud voice catches my attention.  Adan is still yelling at one of his former assistants.  Now there’s a surprise.  Master Adan chemist, and alchemist, has joined us.  His training is apparently in blowing things up, not healing.  When all the trained healers were killed, he got the job of head healer, by default.  He hates it.  But he’s very conscientious about his job.  Solas gave him lots of advice on wound care, saying he got the info from me, and most of the wounded survived, without contracting wound rot.  In fact, most of them are on the mend.

 

Well, they were on the mend.

 

Apparently, some hotshot surgeon from Orlais turned up, pulled some political strings, and got him kicked out this morning.  He accepted her credentials at the time, but he’s heard what she’s doing to the wounded, and he’s now convinced they’re all going to die.  So, when he heard about our little splinter group, he asked all his patients what they wanted.  The humans all wanted to stay.  The non-humans all wanted to leave.

 

There aren’t a lot of non-human injured, so they’re all on makeshift stretchers, and they’ll be carried out of here.  Adan’s fussed over them since they got here.  Then his former assistant turned up to steal, sorry, ‘confiscate’, the medical supplies.  Adan’s in full flow, at the top of his voice, at him.  Solas is also talking to him.  Varric isn’t aiming at Bianca at him, though the threat is there.  Kaaras’ running a stone down the edge of his blade, sharpening it, and glaring at the man.  Herah is playing with her magic, where the man can see her.  The assistant isn’t crying, yet.

 

“Ten silvers says he starts blubbing and then runs away,” My new guardspersons says sardonically.  She’s Edric’s cousin.  He’d introduced her as Malika.  Her dark hair is swept up on a braid, her skin the same tone, her eyes just as dark.  Blocks of black tattoos sit on her face, they’re like Edric’s.  They’re less intricate than the Dalish ones and look a lot less painful.

 

Shaking my head, I make the universal sign for money, rubbing my fingers together and then giving her an open hand.  “Wait, you’ve got no money at all?”  She questions, and I try to indicate I’m agreeing with her.  “Well shit.  Guess Edric’s right, we’re really not getting paid for this gig.”  Shrugging at her, I wave a hand at all the people in front of us.  She’s less than impressed, “Doesn’t get us paid Princess.”

 

Her prediction about Adan’s former assistant is spot on.  Bursting into tears, he turns tail and flees.  Impressed, I hold a fist out to her.  Staring at it she frowns, “What?”  Slowly, I reach out, and lift her right hand, positioning it into a fist.  Then I carefully, and gently, because her leather gloves have metal bits on it, bump our fists together.  “You may be the Herald of Andraste, but you’re definitely Touched.”

 

Adan’s former assistant was our last problem to solve.  With him gone, we’re free to go.  Everyone starts shifting around and looking for someone else to follow.  Hopefully that person is going to be Solas, because I’ve not got a fucking clue where to go.

 

Speaking of Solas he strides up to us.  Holding my fist out to him, I get to see him slow, cock his head to one side and say, “I do not see how vanquishing the healer is worthy of a fist bump.”  He fist bumps anyway, “I shall take your high praise and hold it close.”  He sweeps me into a hug.  “Come.  We are now ready to leave.”

 

Putting me down, he holds out his arm, so I thread mine through it.  Concentrating on walking properly.  I let him lead.  This is going to be slow going, but faster than when I woke up in the dungeon, or even earlier today in the cabin.  I’m getting better at this.

 

Leaning on Solas, allowing him to steady me, we do pick up the pace.  Stepping out of the main wooden gates, he takes us towards the sea of tents, well, more like a small lake of tents.  There are more of them than there were in the game.

 

There are also more people in armour, hitting each other with sticks, the clangs ring out across this part of Haven.  As we near them, they stop, the wind filling the void of sound.  They stare at us.  Then one of them jeers at us.  Thankfully the wind is in the wrong direction for me to hear him, but his gesture is clear, his words are not nice, or kind.

 

“Steady,” Solas’ muscles flex under my hand.  “He is but one man.”  Yeah, but one idiot can quickly turn into a mob.  And he’s bigger than me.

 

“ ** _If it helps_** ,” Valour starts.  “ ** _He is making comments about you in particular, and wondering how much you charge for your services, as a whore_**.”  Shoulders going rigid, I keep walking, the rage from earlier returning.  “ ** _He believes your price will be low, as you are on the arm of an elf, so you must be a terrible fuck_**.”  Above us thunder rumbles in a rapidly darkening sky.  “ ** _You many also wish to know, he is one of the men who raped you, in the last time line_**.”

 

I see red.

 

“ ** _Enough Valour_** ,” Wisdom breaks in.  I take a steadying breath, even as I stumble next to Solas.  “ ** _The Wolf will handle it.  This man will be no danger to Eevee_**.”  Oh, good, I’m glad someone’s going to handle it.  Though I’m not sure what it is.

 

A sense of Valour muscling closer and then, “ ** _She must understand Wisdom.  She is too kind and will misunderstand otherwise.  This way, when it happens, she will not interfere_**.”  Interfere with what?  What’s going on?

 

“ ** _Peace_** ,” Faith murmurs.  “ ** _You are confusing and frightening Eevee_**.”  A swirl of the Fade around me bolsters my faltering feet, “ ** _This man has harmed many.  He will go on to harm many more.  As the bastard child of a Bann, he has protection, to shield him from the fruits of his actions_**.”  I’m not sure where this is going.  “ ** _Yet Solas, as your legal husband, has the right to challenge this man for his insults to you_**.”

 

Love wraps itself around me, “ ** _There will be violence.  We see no clear path to steer you down, which does not end in blood, or death.  Wisdom is speaking to Solas now.  If he challenges this man, defeats him in battle, and defends you, there will be no future repercussions bringing harm to you or to your companions_**.”

 

I don’t understand.  This isn’t in the plan to leave Haven.  Why is this suddenly happening now?  All I want to do is just walk out of this place.  This isn’t closing rifts, or healing Thedas, or restoring peace.  Why does this feel like this fight is inevitable?  This isn’t a computer game.  There shouldn’t be pre-arranged encounters you have to complete to move on.  This is stupid.  And I’m afraid too.  I cling a little tighter to Solas.

 

Valour doesn’t help when it says, “ ** _This is not Earth.  This is Thedas.  Here violence is an accepted part of life.  And right now, might gives anyone the right to do as they please_**.”  Which is wrong.  So very wrong.  Might does not make right.  “ ** _Good.  Remember it and spread it across all of Thedas_**.”

 

“Chuckles,” Varric is now next to Solas.  “He’s the guy from the tavern.  The one harassing the barmaid.  Remember?”  No.  What’s he talking about?  Why am I always in the dark about everything?

 

“Ah,” Solas says.  “I remember him.  The human you pinned to the wall with your Bianca.  The one who refused take no for an answer.”  Huh?  When did this happen?  When was Solas in the tavern?  “Right before the explosion at the Temple.”  I don’t remember this from the game.  Fuck it, I’m going to have to read up about this world and soon.  I’ve forgotten too much.  “I thought he had been taken to Commander Rutherford.”

 

“Oh, they did, in chains,” Varric sounds annoyed.  “Curley had to let him go, instead of giving him a well-deserved whipping.”  They whip people?  That’s barbaric.  “Seems his Daddy is a noble, who takes good care of his bastard offspring.  Flissa’s banned him from the tavern.  The barmaids all walk home together.  I had to pull him off a servant the other day.  Where’s Hawke when you need her.  She’d be able to stop this asshole.”  Well Hawke’s not here because Varric’s protecting her.  Wait.  Hawke’s female? Squee.

 

“I see,” Solas hasn’t slowed down.  “Then it is doubtful he will simply let us pass?”

 

Snorting Varric says, “With this many women parading past him?  All non-human, so they’re powerless against his Daddy?  Yeah, it’s doubtful.”  I forgot how sarcastic he can be.  “Chuckles, this isn’t going to be pretty.”

 

“Trust me,” Solas pats Varric’s shoulder.  “If he is so foolish as to attempt anything, his Daddy will not protect him this time.  Come, let us see how stupid he truly is.”

 

“Er Solas?” Kaaras has edged closer.  “Are you sure?  Getting into yelling matches with humans never ends well.  And there’re a lot of them about.  With weapons.  We’ve mostly got children and non-combatants on our side.”

 

“I am aware my friend,” Solas still doesn’t slow.  “They will be in no danger.  My wife will not allow them to come to harm.”  What the fuck can I do?

 

Valour answers me, “ ** _Think about hail_**.”  Huh?  “ ** _How is hail made?_** ”  Water drawn up in a thundercloud until it freezes, gets too heavy, and falls.  “ ** _Good.  Now look up_**.”  There’s a blanket of thick clouds up there.  Lightning flickers through them.  And then I blink.  It’s not separate clouds.  Its one cloud.  One, big, cloud.  A giant thunderstorm is sitting right on top of us.  “ ** _Now think about hail.  Think about water droplets being drawn up through the thundercloud.  When this is over, think about letting the hail fall.  None shall fall on you, or those with you.  The humans here will have to run for cover_**.”

 

Huh?

 

Oh.

 

I get it. we can then escape.  Using the thunderstorm and hail as cover.  Clever.  But how do I do any of it?  “ ** _I will help you_** ,” Love fills my head with images.  “ ** _Do not use your mana.  You must use this part of yourself instead_** ,” It guides me away from the new part I’d noticed this morning.  “ ** _Here.  This is the power of the Evanuris.  Use this_**.”  Stumbling again, Solas keeps me upright, as I twist/turn/push with Love’s encouragement.  “ ** _Good, you are doing well_**.”

 

“Vhenan?”  Solas helps me to avoid falling on my arse.  Then he glances up at the sky, “Ah, interesting.”  Patting my arm, he nods, “I understand.  Stay with Herah and Malika.  Should we become separated, they will keep you safe.”  I nod, head too full of images of water rising upwards, to where the air is so cold, the water will freeze, to speak.

 

“Oi, knife ear,” We’re close enough for the man’s words to reach us.  For some reason he reminds me of Blackwall.  Except he’s younger than the would be Warden.  His hair is oiled back.  His beard looks like several black rats exploded on his face.  He’s in metal armour.  And where I think Solas can strut and command a room, this idiot struts like he shit himself.  “You deaf you pointy ear bastard?”

 

Now Solas slows down, “Excuse me?  Are you speaking to me?”  Er, of course he is.

 

Armour dude struts closer to us, “Yes, you stupid frigging rabbit.”  For some reason the other idiots behind him all laugh.  I don’t get the joke, he didn’t say anything funny.

 

“I see,” Solas brings us to a halt, as we watch the man and his cronies, or is it minions, slither up to us.  “I am sorry, but we simply do not have time to speak to you.  We are too busy saving Thedas.”  What?  No one talks like that.

 

The men walking towards us start laughing again, “Did you hear that?  He thinks this lot can save Thedas!”  Cue more moronic braying.  I briefly wonder if there’s a school for stupid around here, they seem to missing most of their students.

 

It’s difficult to listen to this ridiculousness, when I’m trying to convince water in the air to be sucked up, so it can turn into ice.  “We can.  And we will,” Solas’ voice is loud, and this little spectacle is drawing more people in.  “My wife, the Lady Herald, Chosen of Andraste, and Heir to the House of Trevelyan, is with us.  Clearly this proves the Maker Himself is with us.”  Whispering starts up all around us.  Including from behind us.  I think everyone in Haven heard him.

 

Even more people are drifting towards us.  Beardy sniggers, “The Herald?  You think your pox ridden whore is the Herald?”  His belly laughs are over exaggerated.  “She’s not of noble blood.  So how about you hand her over to me and the boys,” Oh god, he’s leering, he’s actually leering.  I feel sick.  I press harder into Solas.  I REALLY want the water in the thundercloud to freeze.  Now.  I want this man to go away.  “And we’ll teach her how real men fuck.”

 

Shuddering at his threat, and with Valour’s words ringing in my head, that this man really did rape me, in another time line, I turn my head to huddle as close to Solas as I can get.  Embarrassingly a whimper is drawn out of me.  This is a nightmare and I want to wake up now.  Warm arms close around me.  They’re not trapping me, they’re protecting me, so I can hide from all the horrors of the world.  “Vhenan, I am here.  You are safe.  I will not let this man touch you.”

 

“Whose gonna stop me?”  Is thrown back at us, making me jump, and whimper again.  I can’t go through that again.  I can’t.  “Stupid elf.  There’s nothing you can do.”

 

“Oh, but there is,” Solas’ reply is silky smooth.  “You there, with the Captain stripes.  I demand you arrest this man, and drag him in front of Commander Rutherford, in chains.  He will hang for his crimes.”  What?

 

“What?”  An unknown male voice echoes me.

 

“This lowborn cretin has grievously insulted my wife.  This is punishable by whipping, or death, in most civilized lands in Thedas,” Solas says this slowly, like he’s explaining it to an idiot.

 

Also WTF?  When did insulting someone mean death?  “ ** _This is Thedas_** ,” Valour repeats.  I’m going to get sick of hearing those three words.  “ ** _Here nobles have huge levels of power and influence.  To insult a noble, as this man has done to you, is death.  Even his father cannot save him from this fate_**.”  But, what about courts?  Judges?  Due process?  Innocent until proven guilty?   Prisons? You can’t just hang someone.

 

“ ** _Here they can_** ,” Wisdom tells me.  “ ** _On Earth, in your land, Law is for everyone.  Or you attempt to make it such_**.”  Its right, we do try, we don’t always get it right.  There are always those who seem to slip away.  “ ** _Here, Law is only for human nobles, some dwarven nobles, and high-ranking Chantry members.  Here, Law is not used to protect, or free people.  Here, Law is used against people.  It is a weapon of the powerful and privileged_**.”

 

“Or,” Solas drops the word in the conversation.  “I will take recompense for his insults out of his flesh.  In single combat.  No magic.  As my wife’s champion, it is well within my rights to beat him into unconsciousness for this.”  What?  I really don’t get Thedas.  When did fighting become a better way than talking?  Or what about compromise?  Brains over brawn?  I’m not upset if this man is punished for his crimes, but whipping?  Beatings?  How is that any better?

 

“Er Solas?”  Kaaras hisses at us.  “Fighting him is a really bad idea.  I’ve seen him train.  He’s good.”

 

“What’s going on here?”  A different male voice says.  All the people in armour stiffen, shuffle their feet, and look at the ground.  The accent isn’t English, French, or American.  Softer, more rolling, I’d say it has a brogue to it.

 

“Knight-Captain,” Solas greets this new voice.  “The Captain here was about to take this miscreant into custody.  As the craven bastard will not face me in battle.  Refusing me the right of defending my wife’s honour.”

 

The new voice asks, “And what has this man done to earn your anger Serah Solas?”

 

“Knight-Captain,” Beardy isn’t swaggering any more.  “This is all a misunderstanding.”

 

“Misunderstanding?”  Solas cuts him off.  “You called my wife a whore!  You said she was pox ridden,” I go back to huddling, not that I’d really stopped.  “You have upset her, insulted her, frightened her.”

 

Before he can continue, the new voice asks, “Did you solider?  Did you truly call Her Worship, the Lady Herald of Andraste, a whore?”  A shocked breath is taken by most of the armour-clad people.  There’s also a general sense of them taking a step backwards.  Leaving Beardy out on his own.  Exposed.  Alone.

 

Peeking out at him, I see him look wildly about, then he stops.  “All right knife ear.  I’ll fight you.  Single combat.  No magic,” The man is back to swaggering.  “I’ll prove my innocence, by beating you, to death.”

 

Under his breath Solas whispers, “Ah, good, he is as stupid as Varric said.  Excellent.”  Out loud he adds, “Knight-Captain?  Would you be so kind as to have at least four Templars witness this combat?  They will ensure I use no magic.”

 

Oh god, they really are going to fight.  This is so stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you watch the Inquisition trailer for Varric. In the background, you can just spot Solas sitting at a table. I didn't notice until someone else pointed it out. Here's the Youtube address: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1WpqaEQO8Hk   
> I've always wondered what happened to the man in it. So I resolved it.


	25. Trial By Combat

Ice is heavier than you think it’s going to be.  Standing on the wooden pier, overlooking the frozen lake, I huff at the effort of keeping all the hail in the sky.  Solas is next to me, his arm around me, keeping me steady on my feet.  “Soon ma lath.  Soon.”

 

On the ice, various armour wearing people are scrambling around, laying down woven mats.  They’ve been using the lake itself for the more advanced sparring matches.  It also means more people can line the shore getting an unobstructed view of the matches.

 

I still think this is stupid.

 

“He will not die by my hand,” Solas murmurs in my ear.  “I will beat this fool to within an inch of his life.  But he will live.”  Huh?  “He will die at the hands of the Surgeon, who has replaced Master Adan as the healer here in Haven.  His father’s wrath will fall on her, not us.”  How the fuck does that work?  The original wounds will have come from Solas.  Medical negligence is one thing, this is very different.  This is, at the very least, manslaughter.  Though I’m fairly sure this counts as pre-meditated murder.

 

Shifting my weight on my feet, I try and mentally shift the weight of the ice.  “Does it lie very heavily on your shoulders, my love?”  He’s looking upwards, so he must mean the ice.  I nod.  “I must make a show of this.  They must all see me defeat this braggart.”  I really don’t see why.  “When this is over, they will all carry the story of this battle, and the rumours will begin.”  Whatever.  I shift again.  Giving a little grunt I lean into him.  “Soon.  You will feel such relief when it falls.”  He’s not wrong about that.

 

“Chuckles,” Varric wanders up to us.  “I’ve been asking around about the odds on the fight.”  I’m hugely unsurprised by this.  Some of Varric’s banter was about gambling.  “It doesn’t look good.  Sir Rylen, the Knight-Commander, he’s worried enough he’s going to be posting guards to protect Mouse.  You know, in case the bully over there tries something, after beating you to a pulp.”

 

Until now, the thought of Solas losing hadn’t crossed my mind.  It crosses it now.  “ ** _Peace_** ,” Faith doesn’t seem worried.  “ ** _The Wolf is not hiding his martial abilities this time.  He is an accomplished warrior.  He will not lose this fight_**.”  Breathing out, I relax, leaving this stupid fight to Solas, as I concentrate on adding more water to the ice, and keeping it up there.

 

“They are so certain I will fall to this cretin?”  Solas asks.  They’ve nearly finished messing about on the ice.  It’s going to start soon.

 

“Well,” Varric hesitates, “Yeah, they are.  No one’s betting on you winning this thing.”

 

“Good,” Solas passes over a small leather pouch.  “Please bet all of our coin on me winning.  And the conditions are a clear win, with my opponent unconscious, and I use no magic during the Trial.”

 

“Seriously?”  Varric is just staring at the pouch in his hand.  “You sure Chuckles?  I feel bad about this.  And I don’t normally feel bad about anything.”  Yes he does, he’s more of a softie than he lets on.

 

“I am sure,” Solas hesitates.  “Earlier, in the Chantry, you hinted at my possible past.”  The Tevinter ex-slave thing?  The one he wants everyone to know but isn’t talking about?

 

“Yeah,” Varric does something with his hand and the pouch vanishes.

 

“If such a past were true,” Solas ventures.  “Perhaps a wise investor would consider the information they already have available to them.  Including a fascinating, yet little known fact; in Tevinter, ex-slaves who manifest magic, may rise high in society, if they win battles against the Qunari.”  Urgh, why doesn’t he just tell Varric his made up story?

 

“Huh,” Varric is staring down at the finishing touches being done on the ice.  “So, if I happened to know a couple of ex-slaves.  And one of them was a mage.  This mage could have risen quite high?”

 

On the ice, they’re testing the skid factor of the mats, to make sure they don’t move.  Solas snuggles me closer, “High enough several Magisters, lifelong enemies, put aside their differences, to have him killed.”

 

An impressed whistle comes from Varric, “This guy, he any good in a fight?  You know, one on one.  Most mages I know, they stand back, and pelt their opponents with magic.”

 

Oh god, they’re both dancing around it.  Why don’t they get to the point?  Men are so weird.

 

“Yes,” Solas says.  “I would say this man is good in a fight.  As a freed slave, one with ears that point, he had to earn the respect, or fear, of his men the hard way.  With his fists.”  They both go quiet.  I roll my eyes and shift my weight again.  “He was renowned at winning bouts, such as these, and was an undefeated champion.”

 

“Undefeated?”  Varric queries, he gets a hummed positive response from Solas.  “And you’re willing to wager all yours and Mouse’s coin on winning?”

 

“I am extremely confident of the outcome,” Solas tells him.  The people on the ice are starting to leave.

 

“Well, shit,” Varric swears.  “Stall ‘em, I need to go place some coin of my own.”  He hurries off towards a knot of people.

 

Looking around us, I can’t help but notice the number of people gathering here has grown.  Alarmingly.  Surely this has to be most of Haven in attendance.  Love confirms it, “ ** _Yes, even some from the Chantry are here_**.”

 

“Serah Solas,” The voice of the man Solas called Knight-Captain precedes him.  “And Lady Herald,” He’s been unbelievably polite to both of us.  He even gives us a small bow.  “The ice is ready for you.”

 

“Thank you,” Solas gives the man a regal nod.  “I notice there are several women with you.”  All of them in metal armour.

 

“Yes, they’re here to protect the Lady Herald,” The man sighs deeply.  “Serah Solas, I strongly suggest you reconsider this action.  Please retract your challenge.  Let this man take a whipping for his crime instead.”

 

“Ah,” Solas moves to wrap his other arm around me, pulling me into a hug.  “You also believe I cannot win this match?  That I will fall in such a simple uncomplicated fight with this fool?”

 

“To be honest Serah Solas, the man you’re facing is a renowned master swordsman.  His father, a noble, paid huge sums of coin training his bastard son in the use of the sword.  He’s won a great number of tourneys; his name is spoken with fear on the circuit.  Even Lady Seeker Cassandra, and Commander Rutherford, have lost to this man,” The Knight-Captain is so damn serious.  I still can’t place his accent.  Also, why does he have such weird tattoos on his face?  There are vertical lines on his chin of all places, and a swirly thing next to one side of his nose.

 

“Hmm, thank you for the warning Knight-Captain,” Solas still isn’t acting worried.  “And thank you for the concern about my wife’s safety.  We have found such concern curiously absent in Haven.”  A kiss is pressed on my forehead.  “Ah, and here come the rest of your guards my love.”

 

Glancing over my shoulder I can see them walking towards us.  Herah’s yelling at Kaaras, “All our coin!  You wagered ALL our coin!”

 

“I got a good tip,” Kaaras speeds up.  Waving to us he bounds over, “Okay, they say they’re ready when you are Solas.  Herah and Malika, please take your places.  The rest of us, fan out.  Protect the Herald.”

 

“Fine,” Herah stomps up to us.  “Idiot brother wagering all our coin.  You better not lose this fight Solas,” She really isn’t happy.

 

Solas tightens his arms for a moment, “You will only lose your coin, if you wagered against me.”  He kisses my forehead.  He seems to like doing that.  Then he lets me go.  I’m expecting him to just march off and go fight.  Instead he lifts his hands up, cups my face, tilting it towards him, and for a few horrifying seconds I think he’s going to kiss me.  He doesn’t.  Thank god.  His mouth is so close to mine he may as well have.  When he pulls back, he only moves enough to press his forehead to mine, and bump our noses together.  “Vhenan,” His voice is doing the thing again.  “Ir abelas.  I will vanquish this boorish foe, and return swiftly to your side.”  He gazes into my eyes, they are really deep, and I feel a little dizzy.  “Forgive me my actions, my love.  I will do anything to protect you.  Dare anything to see you safe from harm.  You need but to ask, and I would conquer this world, and lay it at your feet.”

 

What?

 

Oh shit, I think he’s serious.

 

“ ** _He is very serious_** ,” A new voice tells me.  It almost purrs in my head.  “ ** _You need only nod, and our brother of Pride made flesh, will lay waste to this world.  He will shatter it and place it at your feet_**.”  I don’t like this voice, it makes my skin crawl.  It reminds me of my sperm donor, and the woman who birthed me.

 

Frantically I shake my head, I don’t want the world conquered and placed at my feet.  Solas nods, “I understand my love.  Go, stand with Herah.  If this fight becomes too much for your gentle soul to take, turn your face from it.”

 

Passed over to Herah, I wrap my arms around her bigger arm, and lean into her.  I have to watch as he walks away, down the pier, and steps down, gracefully, onto the covered ice.  Standing in the middle of the mats, he puts his hands behind his back, and waits.

 

In stark contrast, Beardy steps out waving his arms, making a fuss, and annoyingly parts of the crowds cheer him on.  Overhead thunder rumbles as I glower at the twat.  He even wanders up and down the ice, in front of the crowded bank, urging his moronic supporters to get louder.

 

One of the Templars, drafted in to make sure Solas doesn’t use magic, interrupts the premature celebrations, and calls the fight to order.  Or whatever they do here in Thedas.

 

I don’t think I can watch this.  Putting my hands over my ears, I turn my body away, and tuck myself in against Herah.  If I can’t see it, and I can’t hear it, it can’t be happening.  Humming to drown any other noise out, I try and zone out, giving all my attention to the sky.  I set myself a small challenge, just how big can I get the hail?

 

**oOo**

 

Positioned where she is, Genevieve has the perfect view, not only of the Trial by Combat, but of the Herald too.  She’s flattered she was picked to protect the Herald.  But she’s frankly confused by what’s happening.  Why would the elf choose to do this?

 

Knight-Commander Rylen had explained to them the insults spewed by the defendant.  And that the rabbit, the mage called Solas, wanted to prove the crimes through combat.  No wonder the Herald had turned away.  She wouldn’t want to see the rabbit beaten to death.  After all, the elf is supposed to be her husband.

 

Swallowing her revulsion at the thought of any elf pawing at such a fine lady, Genevieve turns her attention back to the fight.  The defendant, Kayne the Bastard, was charging the knife ear, shield ready, and sword raised high.  She readies herself for the bloodshed to follow.  Some rabbits simply don’t understand their place, they seemed to think they’re equal to humans.  Well, it’d be over soon.

 

And then the impossible happens.  One moment the rabbit is in front of the charging Kayne, the next, he’s dancing sideways, ending up behind the fighter.  “Ah, you appear to have missed me,” Is said calmly.  She can’t detect even the slightest edge to the elf’s voice.  No mockery, he was simply stating a fact.

 

“Well, shit,” The blond dwarf says.  “Chuckles said he was good.”

 

With that Kayne charged the mage again.  And again.  And again.  Shocked, Genevieve can’t believe her eyes.  Kayne, winner of some of the bloodiest, most underhanded, barely legal tourney fights, had yet to land a single blow on the elf.  An unarmed elf at that.

 

“Huh,” The blond dwarf was talking to the oxman.  “Maybe Chuckles is going to wear him out.  Let him collapse from exhaustion.  Because, I’m getting tired from just watching them.”

 

“I don’t know Varric,” Rumbles the ox.  “The human’s catching onto this tactic.  Solas won’t be able to use it for much longer.  He’s going to have to change to something else, and soon.”

 

On the ice, Kayne was catching on.  No longer rushing the rabbit, he was circling him, slowly.  He made a few feints, which the elf didn’t react to, and then swung his sword, hard.  Only the elf had leaned out of the way, pivoted on a foot, and was somehow behind Kayne again.  This time, he lifted a leg, put his foot on the man’s backside, and pushed Kayne forward, and off balance.

 

“Oh, he’s good,” The oxman seems to admire this elf.  “The human is barely holding his temper as it is, when he explodes, Solas’ going to control this whole thing.”

 

The female ox asks, “Are you sure?  Solas could just be setting himself up.  An angry human can do a lot of damage.”

 

“No,” Knight-Captain Rylen says stepping into the conversation.  “The Qunari is quite correct.  Serah Solas’ actions are designed to hit Champion Kayne at his weakest point.  His temper.  If he lets his anger rule him, he’ll be easier to control, and a good fighter can take advantage of that.”

 

Watching the rest of the moves this elf was using, she can see it now.  He really was seeking to annoy Kayne.  Right now, he’d again danced out of the way of an attack, but as he spun behind Kayne, the rabbit deliberately trips him.  Kayne sprawls face first over the covered ice, and the crowd explodes into laughter.

 

“You may yield at any time,” The elf was back to standing calmly, hands behind his back, unwinded, and seemingly unconcerned.

 

Kayne surges up from the ground, snarling, breathing heavily, and roars, “Stand still, you piece of shit whoreson.  I’m going to gut you!”  And charges the elf.

 

Expecting the elf to simply dance out of the way, she’s stunned when he does stand still, moving only at the last second.  She doesn’t even see what he does, not really.  She could have sworn, he reached out, grabbed Kayne’s shield, and fell backwards, pulling Kayne with him.  They end up, Kayne flat on his back, the elf crouching next to him, still holding the shield.  Suddenly the elf twists and flexes his whole body.  Loud cracking noises fills the air, followed by Kayne’s pain filled screams.

 

“You appear to have fallen and broken your arm,” The elf’s voice was still so calm.  “A pity.  As it renders your shield all but useless.  Here, let me help you remove it.”  More twists, more screams, and then the elf stands up, the shield in his hands.  On the floor Kayne was left with only his sword.

 

“Well, shit,” The dwarf sounds impressed.  “I’ve never seen that done before.”

 

“Me either,” The oxman’s jaw has dropped open.  “I didn’t even think that was possible, even in a story.”

 

On the banks around them, angry mutters of ‘magic’ can be heard.  “Templars,” Knight-Captain Rylen calls out.  “Was magic used?”

 

“No, Knight-Captain,” One of them calls back.  “I don’t know how he did it.  But that wasn’t magic.”  A gasp from the crowd and Genevieve can understand their disbelief.  How was this even possible?

 

“A simple enough trick,” The knife ear answers.  He turns the shield in his hands.  On the floor, Kayne struggles to his feet.  He never even stands up.  The rabbit spins, swinging the shield, which connects with the man’s face, smashing him back to the ice.  “Hmm, no, I do not like this shield.”  He carries it over to one of the Templars, and hands it to the man.  Unarmed again, the elf walks back to the middle of the sparring grounds, and stands with his hands behind his back, waiting.

 

Slowly, painfully, Kayne stands up.  Spitting blood, he roars, and staggers towards the elf.  Holding her breath, Genevieve waits to see what he’ll do next.  She’s not disappointed.  The elf easily dodges the sloppy swings of the sword, he moves onto one foot, stands there for several heartbeats, and then spin kicks the foot he has off the ground, into Kayne’s face.  Kayne collapses onto the ice, again.

 

“I take it back,” The female ox says.  “You did good wagering all our coin.  With these odds, we’re going to get rich, quick.”

 

“Glad you approve,” The male ox tells her.  “How’s Eevee?”

 

Arm wrapped around the Herald, the female ox nods to her, “She’s still humming.  She really doesn’t do well around violence, does she.”

 

“Mouse?” The blond dwarf doesn’t look away from the ice.  “She’s too gentle for this world,” He shakes his head.  “People like that, they usually don’t last long in this world.”

 

They’re interrupted by Kayne wildly swinging at the elf.  This time, the elf dances over towards Kayne’s sword arm.  When he grabs it with both hands, the crowd gasps, then sighs, as he twists his body, more loud cracks, and Kayne screams again.

 

Stepping away, the rabbit is now the one holding the sword, “Ah, your wrist appears to be broken now.”  Tsking, he shakes his head, “It seems you can no longer use your sword.”  One more spin kick drops Kayne.

 

“I’m seeing this,” Knight-Captain Rylen says.  “But I don’t believe it.  Who is this man?  I’ve never seen anyone, let alone a mage, do anything like this.”

 

On the ice the elf is studying the sword.  “Hmm, nicely balanced,” He holds it up, balancing it on one finger.  “You have not taken good care of it.  Your sharpening is sloppy.  There are bubbles of rust on the blade.  The leather on the hilt is worn in too many places.”  With a flick of his arm, the sword is sent skywards, spinning end over end it falls, to be caught hilt first by the elf.

 

Lowering the sword slowly, he holds in out in front of him, then begins to move it through simple warms up.  The same warm ups Genevieve herself does for training.  She watches, absolutely amazed, as this elf speeds up, adding more, and more complicated sword forms.  The sword becomes a blur, as he runs through various exercises, building to a point of utter stillness, the sword raised in a salute.  “Hmm, a good sword.”

 

With a swish the sword is brought down.  Show over, the elf carries his prize over to the same Templar, handing it over, and going back to stand, hands behind his back, and waiting for Kayne.

 

No one says anything.

 

Only the wind, and the soft humming from the Herald can be heard.

 

With a groan Kayne inches his way to his feet.  There he sways like a drunk.  The elf is the clear winner of this Trial.  They’re all waiting to see how he’ll finish it.  He calls out, “Herah?”

 

“Yeah?”  The female ox yells back.

 

“Is my wife watching?”  He asks.  Everyone turns to see the Herald is still in the ox woman’s arm, hands over her ears, face turned away.

 

“No.  Eevee’s still humming, and still not watching,” The ox says.  Her arm is curled protectively around the Herald.

 

“Good.  Please keep her distracted should she try and watch.  She will not approve of what I am about to do,” He’s not even finished speaking, when he begins to move.  He dances around Kayne, hands a blur, like the sword had been.  Impacts of fists slamming into flesh are harsh.  Then he kicks out, his foot catching one of Kayne’s knees, the crunch making everyone wince.

 

When Kayne falls, he doesn’t move, the fight literally beaten out of him.

 

“Knight-Captain?”  The elf calls out.

 

Stirring Sir Rylen answers, “Yes Serah Solas?”

 

“Your verdict on the Trial?”  On the ice, the elf is standing with his hands behind his back, every inch as commanding as any noble Genevieve has seen.

 

“Kayne is found guilty of his crime,” Sir Rylen’s voice is steady, and with his words, the crowd murmurs.  “And you have meted out his punishment,” the murmurs get louder.  “This Trial is over, Champion of the Herald of Andraste.”

 

Walking forward the elf reaches the end of the pier.  He places his hands on the wood, she blinks, and there’s a white wolf walking towards them, the elf has vanished.  People scramble away from it, even as she goes to draw her sword to protect the Herald from this monster.  “Chuckles,” The dwarf is waving at the wolf.

 

The wolf is the elf?

 

“Maker’s breath,” Sir Rylen swears, his hand has dropped down onto his sword.  “You truly can shapeshift?”

 

Muzzle moving to point towards the Knight-Captain, the wolf speaks in the elf’s voice, “Yes.  As can my wife.”  In one heartbeat, the wolf is gone, and in its stead is the biggest bear she’s ever seen in her life.  He towers over the ox men.  His huge clawed paws are bigger than her torso.  When they hit the pier, the wood vibrates with the weight.

 

“A great bear?”  The blond dwarf is just standing there, unafraid.  “Really Chuckles?  This whole time you could have been a great bear?”

 

A deep rumbling chuckle comes from the bear, “Master Tethras, I could indeed have swatted the human with one of my paws.  But it would have invalidated the Trial.  This way, all saw his villainy proved, and witnessed his punishment legally carried out.  In times such as these, when all order is breaking down, it is easy to be swept up in the chaos.  We must all be vigilant, and guard against it.”

 

In the ox woman’s arms, the Herald stirs, takes her hands from her ears, and turns her head towards the great bear.  It seems the whole world holds its breath to see what this woman does when faced with the giant bear.


	26. Misstep

Blinking in the light, I stare at the biggest bear I’ve ever seen.  Its easily bigger than a polar bear, its closer to being elephant sized.  “ ** _He is Solas_** ,” Love tells me before I can freak out.

 

Letting go of Herah, I take my time walking towards Solas, concentrating on placing my feet properly on the icey pier.  He’s a very unusual looking bear.  I’m used to Earth bears, all covered in fur, and much smaller.  I don’t think I’ll even come up to his shoulder.  He’s not covered in fur, his grey skin is exposed, but it looks wrong.  He does have some fur, a grey mohawk of it runs down his back, and he’s got a funny looking beard of it on his throat.

 

Reaching his head, I watch as he lowers it down to me.  This close I can see his grey eyes with a hint of blue.  Yes, this is definitely Solas.  I let myself flop forwards, my whole body is soon resting on his face without covering it, he really is that big.  Under my hands, his grey skin is mottled and made up of bumps.  Running my fingers over it, I can feel how tough and hard the bumps are.  It’s like he’s got armour built into his skin.

 

Even with this head down I have to go on tiptoes to reach his ears.  I rub the base of them, getting a deep rumble out of him for my efforts.  He moves his body, and the whole pier vibrates, that must be what I felt earlier, breaking me out of my humming.

 

“ ** _He is sitting down_** ,” Love says.  And then I get to see Solas’ front half lower down to the pier too.  His paws stretch out either side of me, his big head stays still, keeping me upright.  Eying up one of his paws, the closest one, I can’t help but notice just how big his claws are.  “ ** _You can sit on a paw, he would not mind_** ,” Love offers.  It’s right.  His paws are big enough for me to sit on.

 

I have been standing for a while.  And I’ve been walking around a lot.  A few minutes of sitting won’t hurt.  Then we can leave Haven.  Letting go of his ears, I lean on his face, so I can edge round to a paw.  It’s lower to the ground than I’d like, but better than nothing.  Plopping my arse down his paw, I wiggle to get comfortable, and watch as he rests his huge head on his other paw.

 

Out here, beyond the pointy wooden fencing of Haven, the wind is cutting.  Solas is a surprisingly effective wind break.  He also radiates heat, and I find my hands automatically resting on his face caressing his thick hide.  More deep rumbles come from him.  You’d think he was a cat, not a bear, the way he carries on.

 

As Beardy isn’t in view, it means Solas must have won.  If he used this shape, I can see why he was so confident about winning.  Happily petting him, I ignore everyone else around us.  They’re staring like they haven’t seen a therapy bear before.  I suppose most people haven’t, dogs are much more common.

 

Moving his head, he almost rests it in my lap, and it reminds me of his wolf shape, trying to get more ear rubs off me.  Reaching up, I go back to rubbing his ear.  His grumble is louder, longer, and ends in a sigh.  Silently laughing at him, I redouble my efforts.  He rolls his neck, somehow giving me more access to his ear.  Who knew all those fanfictions were right, he really is touch starved.

 

While I’m happy to do this when he’s a wolf, or a Hart, or even a bear, I’m not doing this when he’s elf shaped.  Nope.  Not happening.  No rubbing of ears then.  He may be extra cuddly, but there are limits.

 

Left alone to fuss him, I wait for the crowd to break up, and go away.  The show must be over now.  They don’t cooperate and keep hanging around instead.  It’s really cold out here.  Most of them are shivering, why don’t they leave to go get warm?  And then we can leave Haven without any more harassment.  There’s so much for us to do out there, across the rest of Thedas, we need to get started.  Preferably before someone else tries to attack me.

 

And Solas is still a bear.

 

I’m missing something.  In the game he was all, ‘We have to close the Breach’, and his in-game dialog was very focused on it.  Yet, right now, he’s sprawled out, getting petted.

 

Yes, he loves getting fussed, I saw that in his wolf shape, but he’s not trying to change back.  Is he hurt?  Oh god, did he come to me to get healed?  Is that why everyone’s still here, they want to see me heal him?  Or did something go wrong, and he lost?  Worried I ask, “Solas?  Are you okay?  Did you get hurt?”

 

His eye, which was in the process of closing, opens again, “I am unhurt my love.  His villainy is proved, his punishment given, the matter is now complete.”  Okay, good.  I relax a bit.  Petting him some more I try and think this through, measuring it against what little I know of Solas, and this world.

 

My conclusion: Thedas is fucking weird.

 

I don’t get it.  Why are we still here?  We should be leaving.  “Solas?” I stop petting him.

 

“Hmm?” His eye is now fully closed.  When I was a honey badger, or a mouse, I didn’t notice any differences in my core inner self.  But I’m from Earth, this body I’m in, it isn’t the one I had at birth.  Does the act of shapeshifting affect those from Thedas?  Is Solas acting like this because he’s a bear?  We’re in a snowy winter hellscape, is it triggering hibernation in him?

 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”  I gently caress his muzzle, wondering how to break him out of this.

 

“Yes beloved, I am more than okay,” He doesn’t even open his eye.  This is probably a bad sign.  “A little to the left please,” I oblige him and move my hands to the left, he rumbles at me again.  Yeah, I’m going to bring this up at some point.  He should change his name to the Dread Kitty, or the Purring Kitty.

 

This also isn’t getting us moving.  I stop petting him.  How do I get him to shapeshift back into an elf?  The paw I’m on flexes, his huge claws gouging the wood of the pier.  As cute at this is, it does bring up the issue of Beardy.  If Solas fought him in this shape, exactly how badly hurt is the rapist bastard?  Solas said he wasn’t going to kill him.  But how do you battle someone, as a bear this big, and not kill them?  Earth bears have been known to kill people, they’re big powerful animals, and they’re usually the apex predator of their natural environment.  A smack of their paws, or a bite from those jaws, and even with immediate medical attention, people can, and will, die of their wounds.

 

Is this why people are still here?  Because Solas killed him?  Even though I know the evil things Beardy did, and would do if he got the chance, I still feel sick at the thought of his murder. He should be locked up.  Justice should be done.  There should be a proper trial, a proper judge, a proper sentence.

 

“And the other man?  Is he dead?”  Oh god, I’m probably sitting on the paw that murdered someone.

 

“No,” Solas still doesn’t move.  “He lives,” I breathe out in relief.  “They will soon carry him to the healer.  The so-called Surgeon who replaced Master Adan.”  Good.  This is all good news.  Maybe that’s what everyone’s waiting for?  Once he’s been stretched off, we can all leave?

 

If that’s the case, as the fake healer of the group, I can speed this whole thing up.  All I have to do, is not faint, or throw up, at the sight of any blood, and help them load him onto a stretcher, wave him off, and we’re free to go.  “Right, I’ll go help them ready him for transport,” I have no idea how to ready anyone for transport.  I have full faith in Love being able to help, it knows so much about healing, it must know non-magical healing too.

 

His eye opens a slit, “No.  I forbid you.”

 

It takes me a few seconds to realise what he said.  “The fuck?”  I hiss at him, my rage from earlier rushing back.  His eye opens all the way, his head jerking back from me.  “What did you just say to me?”

 

With his head no longer in my lap, I put my hands on his paw, and push myself up onto my feet.  How dare he!  He’s supposed to be my carer.  He’s supposed to help me.  To aid me in getting through life.  My sperm donor used to forbid me things, because he was a fucking controlling arsehole, and he revelled in his tyranny and abuse.

 

Solas might be a huge bear who can swot me with one paw, but I’m not taking that from him.  I’m not taking that from anyone.  I swore, after all the court battles, I’d never let anyone control me to that level again.  Yes, I need help.  Yes, I need a carer.  It doesn’t mean they get to control me.  It doesn’t mean they get to take away my freedom of choice.

 

I hate confrontation.  I hate violence.  I’ve been on the receiving end too often.  Thankfully, I never got the sickness other abuse victims can get, I never got the need to pass it on, the need to become an abuser myself.  Instead, I get physically sick to my stomach if I’m forced to confront people, to argue with them, or be around violence.

 

Shaking from a mixture of rage, fear, and nerves, I fold my arms, lift my chin, and wait.

 

In front of me, Solas is sitting up, and scrambling backwards.  His back paws can’t seem to get a grip on the pier, it must be really slippery as he skids a few times getting to his four feet.  “Vhenan!  Ir abelas!”

 

“You’re sorry?”  There’re too many people for me to speak loudly.  I hope his hearing as a bear is strong enough to catch what I’m saying, “Then why would you say that to me?  Why would you try and control me like that?”  His whole body flinches, and he takes several steps backwards, his feet can’t seem to get a grip, and they threaten to go out from under him.  His head is so far down it’s practically on the wooden pier, his ears are flat to his skull, his eyes aren’t on me, they’re downcast too.

 

“I misspoke, it was a mistake,” His voice is cheating and doing the thing again.  “My love, I would never,” Breaking off midsentence, he shakes his big head.  “I swear it.  Please.  Forgive me.”

 

One second, he’s a big lumbering bear, the next he’s an elf.  An elf with drooping ears, his shoulders down, and he’s scrabbling on the slick ice as he struggles towards me.

 

Reaching me, he nearly barrels into me, but turns it into a controlled skid at the last moment.  His arms wrap around me.  I don’t uncross my arms and resist the hug.  “Please,” He’s talking straight into my ear.  “Please.”

 

Grinding my teeth, I refuse to give in to him, “My sperm donor used to forbid me too.”

 

“No,” Is groaned out, and his weight falls against me.  “Had I but known, I would have used any other word.  Any word, but that one.”  I knew my body was shaking, but so is his.  “I will never use it again.  Never.”

 

People say things like, ‘I’ll change, I’ll never do it again, just give me one more chance.’  Abusers all lie.  They don’t change.  They will do it again.  And you shouldn’t give them any more chances.

 

“ ** _Let me help you_** ,” Love says.  How?  “ ** _To help you match his actions with his words_**.”  Which is a good idea.  I’m not a good judge of character.  I have to wait, watch, and see what people actually do.  Their actions will reveal who they really are.  “ ** _Solas has made missteps with you before this.  Has he repeated these mistakes?_** ”  No, no he hasn’t.  “ ** _This mistake has hurt you deeply,_** ” Yes, it hit some really sore spots.  “ ** _Is this a hurt you can move past?  Or is this hurt too deep_**?”  All good points.  And extremely helpful.

 

Uncrossing my arms, I wrap them around him, he shivers, “Thank you, ma lath.”

 

“Please don’t do that again.  Ever,” My voice cracks.  “I have to be able to trust you as my carer.”  His arms tighten.  “If you’re going to be my therapy wolf, I can’t be afraid of you, or worrying about how you’re going to hurt me next.”

 

“I will do better,” His voice is wobbly.  “You left me a memory, in it, you spoke highly of those who care.  How they were special people, called to a higher, harder path.  Their willingness to give of themselves to others always moved you,” They never get the recognition they deserve.  “I have spent millennia learning innumerable skills.  I will learn these caring skills too.  I will be the best carer for you.  You will never want for another.”

 

“Okay,” I nod into his shoulder.  “We’ve talked about this.  I’m going to be angry for a bit, you scored a direct hit on some sore spots.  But I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt.  You didn’t know.  And you’ve promised you won’t do it again.”  I can feel the tension from this draining out of me, leaving me even more shaky.  I really hate arguing, “I’m going to hold you to your promise.  Never again Solas.”

 

His cheek slides against mine as he nods, “Never again.  Thank you, my heart.  You are too generous and kind.  I will do better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normally I don't change things in my story. I have a general idea arc. I have milestones that need to be reached, and I let the characters lead me. Comments are love, and they're so useful to see what my readers, which would be you, have picked up from my writing. Rarely do they get me to make any amendments. Last chapters comments did just that. You were right and I was wrong.  
> Originally, I was going to have some bear cuddles, but it was more foreshadowing of in camp bear cuddles later on. Solas didn't misstep. MJ didn't stand up to him. And we went straight to the ice storm.  
> This is so much better.  
> I honestly wish I could give you all kudos for spotting, and understanding, what was needed.  
> You are all amazing.  
> Also please bear with me (pun intended), as I have to do some serious rewritting to do, it may be a longer delay until the next chapter.


	27. Mutual Care

He’s leaning on me.  I’m leaning on him.  We’re holding each other up at this point.  Both of us are trembling.  I feel raw, exposed, and I want to curl up in my bed, cuddling Baron, and maybe Solas, for a week.

 

“ ** _He would enjoy such a respite_** ,” Wisdom’s voice is softer than normal.  “ ** _Peace, rest, and a time to heal.  Some wounds cannot be seen, they cut into hearts, and minds, so deeply_**.”  I completely agree with it.  Resting against him, I can admit he’s a very restful person.  Most people are very draining.  They don’t mean to be so demanding on my limited resources, but they are.  One of the many reasons I prefer animals to people, is that animals give so freely, and take so little.  I can rest better with them than with people.

 

Solas seems to be the exception.

 

As much as I want to curl up and rest, I can’t.  We can’t.  Thedas can’t wait for me, or us, to get our shit together.  “Do you know how much longer they’re going to be?  Carting off the Beardy guy?”  Once he’s gone, we can go.  He’s the only reason everyone’s still hanging around.

 

“They will bring a stretcher for him soon,” Is spoken into my ear.  “Beloved, I am aware of your gentle heart.  Yet I am confused as to your concern for this man.  He would have hurt you.”

 

Wisdom interrupts before I can say anything, “ ** _Solas takes your protection very seriously.  He remembers last time.  He will never allow that to happen to you again_**.”  Its voice is calm, kind, but there is something else there, a warning to tread carefully.

 

Snapping my mouth shut, I stop my verbal swipe at him, and take a deep breath instead.  Love was right in helping me see Solas didn’t forbid me on purpose.  He triggered me by accident.  And I have to remember that and not swipe at him.  Wisdom is clearly trying to help me see that too.  “Um,” I tentatively start, trying to feel my way forward.  “We need to leave Haven, right?”  Under my metaphorical feet, it’s like the ice is creaking, one misstep from me, and we’ll both plunge into the freezing water.  And I don’t understand why.  For some reason this feels bigger than him triggering me.

 

“Yes,” He agrees calmly.  So far so good.

 

“Okay,” I keep going.  “So as soon as they stretcher him off, we’re all free to go.  We can leave.  And everyone else can wander off back to their jobs,” Explaining it carefully, I think I’ve dodged whatever Wisdom was warning me about.

 

Proud of myself, I wait for him to say something.  He doesn’t.  Peeking up at him, I can see him frowning, and he goes to say something a few times, but he stops himself.  In my head I can hear Wisdom’s voice.  It’s similar to being in a room, and hearing someone talk in the next room, but the door is closed.  I can’t make out the words.  It must be talking to Solas.

 

Clearing his throat he says, “I see.”  His voice is very careful.  I have no idea what Wisdom said to him.  “Vhenan?”  Has it warned him too?  What am I missing?  In the Chantry it helped me understand the situation with the servant woman.  What else is it trying to show me?

 

“Yeah?”  My voice is just as careful.

 

“I wish to test my understanding,” He pauses, his hands tightening on my clothes for a few seconds.

 

“Okay?” I think.  I hope this doesn’t lead to an argument, I’m not over anything that’s happened so far.

 

“Thank you,” He says, and pulls me even closer to him.  “Do you believe we must all wait here until the human is taken to the Healer?”

 

Nodding into his shoulder, I tell him, “Well, yeah.  Why else is everyone hanging around?  It’s fucking cold out here.  There’s nothing out here remotely interesting.  They’re better off inside.”

 

“Ah,” Solas shakes his head and I automatically tense.  “Ir abelas.  I forget how alien this culture is to you.  How could you know?  You have no reason to.”

 

“You wanna fill me in then?” I ask him.  He doesn’t appear to be angry with me.  And I can work out for myself I’ve missed something.  I bet it’s going to be the ear thing again.

 

“Of course,” He moves us and kisses my forehead, then rests his forehead against mine, so he can give me epic eye contact.  “My love, there are two things you should know, immediately.  Firstly, current custom in Thedas dictates the loser of the Trial is unattended by the winner, or anyone associated with the winner, as this can invalidate the verdict.”

 

“What?”  I frown, affronted by this piece of stupidity.  “Who came up with that shit?  What if there isn’t a doctor nearby?  Is the loser just supposed to die?”

 

“Yes,” Solas stares unflinchingly at me.

 

“But,” I don’t know how to put into words how much that horrifies me.  “That’s wrong.”  Just how fucked up is this world?  How can you not help someone?  How can you just walk away?

 

“You are not on Earth anymore MJ,” His eyes soften.  “You left me memories of wonders I never dared to dream of.  You hid none of the problems your world faced from me.  Yet you spoke of healers trained to help anyone, regardless of birth, status, or how they’d received their injuries.  War was not seen as glorious, but as bloody, and wasteful; fought not for petty honour, but to try and protect others.  Many kingdoms volunteering forces to work together, sheltering the most vulnerable at their weakest moments, and asking for nothing in return.  Courts of Law allowed to pursue the values of Justice, no matter who committed the crime.”  A breath shudders out of him, “If only a fraction of your ideals flourishes in Thedas, this world will be a paradise.”

 

Huh?  All those things are normal.  Standard.  Basic.  They’re not special.  They’re the baseline, we need to keep working on them, improving them, making them better.  You have to give back more than you take.  I didn’t have much to give, so I tried to give my time, volunteering where I could, until I needed too much help to do the simplest of things.

 

“Secondly,” Solas carries on breaking into my train of thought.  “The people ‘hanging around’ as you put it, are not waiting for the human to be taken away, they are here to see you.”

 

“What?”  I make snort noise disagreeing with him, “Who’d want to see me?  I’m no one.”

 

“You are the Herald of Andraste,” He says it like it’s important.  “They will stand in the snow and ice for hours, simply to watch you.”

 

“Ew,” I clutch a bit tighter to him.  “So, I’ve got a town full of creepy stalkers?”  I really don’t like the idea in the slightest.  “We really need to leave.  Now.”

 

“My heart,” His nose boops mine.  “You do not like their adoration?”

 

WTF?  “No!”  My stomach rebels at the thought of all these people staring at me.  “They’re one pitchfork short of a mob.  Mobs are dangerous creatures.  You can’t trust them.”

 

“Hmm, I see,” Grey eyes with a hint of blue twinkle at me, his eyes crinkling at the edges.  “Much from before begins to make sense to me now.”

 

“Oh good,” I deadpan at him.  “I’m so glad.”

 

Throwing his head back, his guffaws of laughter are loud, they shake his whole body, and therefore me too.  Annoyed at him, I poke him, gently, in the side with a finger.  Instead of stopping him, it makes him laugh harder.  Giving up, I rest my head on his shoulder, and wait for him to come to his senses.  “Urgh.  Men!”

 

“ ** _Thank you_** ,” Wisdom wraps itself around me.  “ ** _From your memories, it has been too long since you felt comfortable enough, or had enough energy, to ‘snark’ as you put it, with anyone_**.”  What?  Oh, its right.  I’ve not been censoring myself around Solas.  I’m saying what I think.  I’m not hiding who I am from him.  He also doesn’t seem to mind who I am.

 

It isn’t finished, “ ** _And thank you for my friend.  It has been too long since he has felt anything but despair and loneliness.  You give him joy in so many ways_** ,” I do?  “ ** _You do not fear him_**.”  Why should I be afraid of him?  Even in the game he never hurt the Herald, no matter how much he disagreed with them.  “ ** _You do not bow to him or seek his favour.  You are honest in all your dealings with him.  He can rest with you, as much as you rest with him_**.”  Really?  “ ** _Yes_** ,” Oh.  I wasn’t expecting that.  Normally I’m just a burden on people.  “ ** _Caring will help him heal.  His own trauma is too often ignored_**.”  With those last few words Wisdom rips the ground out from under me.

 

Huh?  What’s it talking about?

 

Two images bloom in my head.  In both of them he’s crying.  Oh god.  Realisation rushes through me.  He has a trigger too!  Rose.  Rose is his trigger.  A sense of someone patting me on the shoulder, and Wisdom says, “ ** _She is one of them.  Yes.  Your lifetime of therapy will be useful, not only to him, but to all those around you too.  Welcome to Thedas MJ_**.”

 

It moves away from me, and if this were Earth, I’d say it just dropped the mic on me.  I think it did its version of telling me to get my head out of my arse.  I’m still not the centre of the universe.  And maybe, if I do it right, I can give back, or pass on, some of the help I’ve been given all my life.


	28. Fall

When Solas calms down, he presses another kiss on my forehead, “Now, my love, are you truly ready to leave?”  Reeling from Wisdom’s info bomb, I don’t trust myself to speak, and nod.  “Very well, we will gather the others, and venture forth into Thedas.”

 

Tucked under his arm, I get to lean into him, and watch as he quickly begins to organise people.  Varric, Kaaras, and Herah, are sent to pick up our winnings.  Varric’s failing at not gloating, so I’ve no idea how much he’s just won.  Edric, and three other people he’s picked out, start getting everyone ready to march.  Solas actually used the word ‘march’ too.

 

Love tries to explain, “ ** _Remember, there is no mechanised transport available.  You will have to walk, or ride a mount, or in your case, fly, where you need to go_**.”  Since the accident, I’ve not walked anywhere, not really.  I don’t think to and from the taxi or ambulance counts.

 

Bow wielding people are going to be patrolling the sides of the marching column.  Apparently, we have scouts, who will be ranging ahead of us and reporting back.  Other people are bringing up the rear to protect our backs.  There are a hundred other details Solas just handles without breaking a sweat.  I used to struggle getting to the doctors, or hospital, it was always an organizational nightmare.  He even adds a few more things, in case something goes wrong, or doesn’t go as planned.

 

Watching him interact with all the different elements, and bring them together, is fascinating.  I wouldn’t have thought of half of this stuff.  Who knew picking out people in advance to dig latrines was a thing?  While they’re doing their duty, others will be putting up tents, or gathering wood, or getting food ready.  And they’ll rotate duties, so no one gets stuck with only one job.

 

What’s even more interesting, he’s not keeping them in the same groups, he’s breaking them up.  For example, during the marching part of the day, the bow people are on the sides, constantly shifting along the column.  During the camping part of the day, they’re split up and have to work with other members of other groups.  Wisdom says it’s to make sure people don’t get stuck in cliques.

 

Staggering up to us, Varric struggles to carry two mini sacks, which clink with every step he takes.  “Here Chuckles, this is all we could get out of him.  He took our wagers without the coin to back up our winnings.  He still owes us the other half.  Puppy had to pick him up, and shake him, just to get this much,” Varric hands over one of the big bags.

 

“Thank you Varric,” Solas seems pleased when he looks in the bag.  There’re all sorts of coins in there.  Most of them are silver coloured, a few are duller brown ones, and a lot are yellow gold coloured ones.  “I see the odds were truly against me.  How unfortunate for them.”

 

“Easiest money I ever made,” Varric tries, and fails, to stuff the bag into his backpack.  He has to empty out some of his things, the ones we got from Seggrit, and tie them to his backpack to make enough room to get it in there.

 

Herah and Kaaras are having the same problem.  Now she’s put him down.  She did pick him up in a bear hug spinning them both round in a circle.

 

“So,” Varric slings his backpack over his shoulder.  “You and Mouse good again?”  He’s not looking at us, which I’m glad about, as my face heats up.

 

“We are,” Solas answers for the both of us.

 

“Good,” Kaaras bounds over to us, his sister following more sedately in his wake.  “We in Eevee’s honour guard again?”

 

“Please,” Solas jiggles the coin sack.  “We would both feel safer in your company.”  I have no idea what he’s going to do with all those coins.  I don’t have a backpack, the others never handed me one.  Every time I tried to get one, it mysteriously got handed out to someone else.  Solas only has a small pack.  Our stuff has been parcelled out to other people.  I’ve no idea who’s got what.

 

“No problem,” Herah steps up to my other side.  “We got your back.”  And I do feel safer with them around.  “If we’ve got everything we need, we might want to get moving, the humans are getting restless.”

 

“Hmm?”  Solas is still staring at the sack.  “Ah, yes.  We will leave presently.  Edric is seeing to the last few pressing issues, and then we will go.”

 

As an aside I tell him, “It’s a pity there aren’t in game banks here.”  He quirks an eyebrow at me.  “You know, so we could drop the coin off now, and it’ll be there every time we need to buy something.  Much easier than carrying all of that around with us.”  Mice and wolves aren’t known for pockets in their fur coats.

 

“An excellent point my love,” He gives me a quick squeeze with his arm and stands up straighter.  I’m not sure how he does it, you could use his back as a ruler.  “Master Seggrit!” He doesn’t bellow it, but his voice carries with crystal clear clarity.

 

A blond head turns around to look at us, quickly followed by the man himself, jogging over to us.  When he reaches us, he gives us the arm across the chest salute thing, with a low sweeping bow, “Serah Solas.  Lady Herald.”

 

Switching to his inside voice, Solas says, “Master Seggrit, the true Inquisition thanks you for your generosity, and willingness to extent credit.  Because of your selflessness, we have clothes, food, tents, and much more.  Please, accept these coins with our thanks,” Handing over the sack is amusing, because Seggrit staggers under its weight.

 

Checking out the contents, Seggrit gasps.  Spirits flock around him, pressing against him, as he gazes at the coins.  I don’t know who they are, they don’t feel like the ones I’ve met, and then Faith, but not the Faith I know, wraps around him.  Pausing, he nods, and says, “Serah Solas, I can’t accept all this.  This is too much.  My goods are of the highest quality, but still.”  Wow, I didn’t expect him to say that.  I expected him to take it and run.

 

“Then, please, take it as a down payment on future purchases,” Solas waves his hand, waving away Seggrit’s attempt to return the coins.  “Unlike those who have assumed control of Haven, we do not steal.  But I fear, we will not be able to pay the full price of goods, for some time.  Please, think of this as a promise we intend to keep.”

 

“I,” Seggrit breaks off, swallowing loudly.  “You truly meant every word.  At the market.  You meant it.”

 

Well yeah.  Epic speech was epic, but it was based on fact, and truth.  Nodding at him, I murmur to Solas, who says for me, “Of course.  Ma lath meant every word.  She always does about such important things.”

 

To my surprise and shock, Seggrit goes down on one knee, “My lady, I pledge myself to you, and to your Inquisition.  I am your man until the end.”

 

No one’s ever knelt to me before.  Solas reaches out, bending down to touch Seggrit’s shoulder, “Thank you.  And welcome.  Today the true Inquisition is reborn, in Divine Justina’s vision of peace.  Here, beneath the ruins of the Holy Temple of Sacred Ashes, we embark on a journey of healing, ours, and Thedas’.”  Seggrit reaches up, and grasps his arm, he uses it to lever himself up again, with Solas bracing to take his weight.  “Today we ask ourselves, not what Thedas can do for us, but what we can do for Thedas!”

 

Wait.  Did he just plagiarise JFK?

 

“Edric.”  And he’s back to using his outside voice, “Please lead us from Haven.  We have much to do.  Thedas has been waiting for too long.  Time for the Inquisition to prove itself to Thedas.”  Very inspirational.  I’m impressed.

 

Seggrit hurries off to take his place in the column.  Solas holds his arm out to me, so I can slip mine through it, and lean on him as we walk.  Varric moves in front of us, with Herah.  Kaaras and Malika fall in behind us.  And we set off, with me concentrating on lifting my feet properly.

 

Overhead the ice I made earlier seems completely redundant.  A total waste of time.  “ ** _No_** ,” Valour steps closer.  “ ** _It will be needed_**.”

 

Behind us a susurration of voices swells into shouting.  See I was right.  One pitchfork short of a mob.  Tensing, I try and move closer to Solas, he steadies me.  “Calm vhenan.”

 

On the mountain, I noticed the obvious difference between Beech and Cassandra running.  I never heard Beech once, her footfalls were eerily quiet.  Cassandra sounded like pots and pans being juggled together.  The same sound is gaining on us, and there are a lot more pots and pans.

 

“Serah Solas!”  The Knight Captain’s voice is right behind us.

 

Bringing us to a stop, Solas turns us around, slowly.  Which brings the Knight Captain and his tinplated guard to a stop too.  “Yes, Knight Captain?”  Solas has drawn himself up.  His other arm is behind his back, every inch the Dread Wolf.

 

Before, everyone left in Haven, had gathered on the banks of the frozen lake.  Now they’re moving towards us, with purpose.  Many of them are openly angry.  Are they why we need the hail?

 

Giving a quick salute and mini bow, the Knight Captain says, “Serah Solas, Lady Herald, forgive my questioning, but you are giving the appearance of abandoning the Inquisition.”

 

“Calm yourself Knight Captain,” Solas is using his outside voice again.  “We are not abandoning the Inquisition,” The mob heading our way slows down.

 

All the armoured people, the Knight Captain included, relax, “Thank you Serah Solas.  Then may I ask where you, and the Lady Herald, are going?”

 

“We are venturing forth into Thedas,” Solas tells him.  “There are a great number of lesser rifts requiring our attention.  They will not close themselves,” And the mob starts muttering again.  “Out there, beyond the gates of Haven, is a world in chaos.  Divine Justina was clear in her mandate; find those who will stand against the chaos.  And we have, they walk with us.  Together we will find the Divine’s murderer.  We will gather the power to close the Breach, permanently.  And we will spread the peace Divine Justina envisaged.”

 

“Ah,” The Knight Captain begins, then stalls.  “Serah Solas, I think we have misunderstood each other.  You said you weren’t abandoning the Inquisition, yet, you are leaving.”

 

“You are correct on both counts,” Solas doesn’t expand on it.  “If that is all Knight Captain, we have far to go to fulfil the Divine’s will.”

 

“Ah,” The Knight Captain rubs at his face, while the humans left in Haven are getting more and more worked up.

 

“Chuckles, “Varric’s voice is pitched low.  “The humans are restless.  This isn’t going to end well.”

 

“I see them Varric,” Solas is still being all calm.  I’m not calm.  This reminds me of the scenes outside the court.  All those people.  All so convinced of my sperm donor’s innocence.  All so sure I made it up.  There were so many police trying to hold the line.  So much violence waiting to be unleashed.

 

“Hold Solas,” A woman’s voice calls out.  Where have I heard it before?  I don’t think it was in game. I’ve heard it recently.  A human woman, dressed in scout armour, jogs up next to the Knight Captain.  Her hood is down, letting me see her face, and she can’t possibly be real.  Her hair is a perfect bottle blonde.  Her eyes are a clear sapphire blue I can see all the way over here.  Pouting lips.  Rosy cheeks.  Her armour seems built to accentuate her figure.  If there’s a group of super models in Thedas, she’s their leader.  She’s stunningly beautiful.  Angels probably wept when she was born.

 

Resisting the urge to hate her, out of sheer spiteful envy, I wait to see what she’s going to say.  Stepping in front of Sir Rylen she effortlessly poses, “I warned you Solas.  This insolence will not be tolerated.  Return the Herald to us.”

 

“Scout Isla,” There’s a tone of warning in Solas’ words.  “And how am I supposed to return the Herald?”

 

Most of the human mob have reached us now, and they’re fanning out.  Some of them are moving behind us, trapping us in a circle.  “ ** _Peace_** ,” Faith isn’t filling me with its namesake.  “ ** _You remain free, their illusion of caging you will shatter, you need but release the hail_**.”  Oh, yeah.  I breathe out and cling a little tighter to Solas.

 

“Shit, Chuckles, they’re behind us,” Varric’s noticed them too.

 

“Calm yourself Varric,” Solas doesn’t look round at him.

 

Snorting, this Isla swaggers forward a few more steps, “Oh, you should listen to him knife ear.  Not only are you going to be flogged for this, so are your accomplices.  Kidnapping the Herald?  I’ll see the Inquisition punishes you all harshly for this.”  I take it back, I’ve decided I’m going to hate her, for being a bitch.

 

At her words the humans are starting to reach fever pitch.  Valour presses close to me, “ ** _She will do it too.  She will have him whipped_** ,” I flinch at its words.  “ ** _He suffered such punishments as a slave, trying so hard to protect his mother, the scars litter his back_**.”  Huh?  I’ve seen his naked back.  It didn’t have any scars on it.

 

Love wraps around both Solas and me, “ ** _He has hidden them for many ages.  A pleasure slave cannot have any flaws, not if they want to live_** ,” What?  I’m confused.  “ ** _He wears, what you think of as a glamour, to conceal his scars.  He is afraid to show them.  He is ashamed of them.  He worries you will think less of him because of them_**.”  Scars aren’t something to be ashamed of.  I’ve got more than my fair share of them.  Some are dead with no feeling.  Some itch.  Some are so sensitive I can’t touch them.  But I learnt to embrace them.  They’re simply part of me.

 

Nearby Wisdom says, “ ** _Yes, and such a lesson wasn’t easy for you.  Any more than it will be easy for him_**.”  Momentarily distracted from the drama raging around us, I wonder if this is one of the things it meant earlier.  “ ** _Again, yes_**.  **_And much more._** ”

 

A deep sigh from Solas, followed by, “And how have we kidnapped her?  When she asked to leave?  And asked for our help?”  The mob doesn’t like what he just said.  “Shall we sit here and watch as the world burns?  Or shall we listen to the Herald?  Shall we let her lead us out into Thedas to quench the rising flames?” Oh, good come back.

 

“Stop lying elf,” Isla waves his words away.  “The Herald belongs here, with us, the children of the Maker.”  She’s not half bad at the inspiring speech thing.  Pity she’s an arsehole.  “Not with a filthy, power grabbing, knife ear.”

 

Bumping me with its shoulder Valour says, “ ** _She will trap you here.  She will punish, not only Solas, but everyone standing with you now.  She will send men after the non-humans leaving Haven, and the humans will massacre them, torture them, rape them_**.”  Swallowing hard to stop bile from coming up, I can feel my earlier anger surging back.  “ ** _She will pay personal attention to Solas.  She wants to hear him scream_**.”

 

After what Wisdom’s pointed out to me, I’m not going to let anyone hurt Solas.  Yes, he’s a racist dick.  And a hidden lesser antagonist of this tale.  But he’s also a person living with trauma.  He’s already triggered twice in the last twenty-four hours.  Fought a stupid dual with a rapist, just to defend me.  Protected me, twice, in the tavern.  And he’s already made me several promises, which he is doing his best to keep.  The Spirits seem ready to accept he’s trying to change who he is.  And at its heart, redemption was one of the driving themes of Inquisition; Cole, and Blackwall, being the two obvious characters seeking redemption.

 

“Strange,” Solas still isn’t acting worried.  Seriously he’s got nerves of steel.  I’m shaking in my footwraps, I don’t know if I’m more afraid, or angry right now.  “Out of the two of us, you are the only one fumbling for power.  And I am hardly filthy, my wife is very keen on cleanliness.”

 

Isla goes an unflattering puce colour, points at us, and shrieks, “I order you to arrest them, kill them if they resist.  If any live, throw them in the dungeons.  Take the Herald to her cabin and see that she stays there.  Then chase down the other deserters.  Should have known the cowards would run away, you can’t trust non-humans, they aren’t real people.”

 

Suddenly, Solas lets me go, pushing me behind him.  Grabbing onto his tunic, I stare around us wildly.  The earlier leashed violence is a hairs breadth away from being released.  Everything Valour said is going to come true.  Humans are starting to advance on us, even as everyone on my side are getting their weapons out.

 

“Damn,” Herah’s magic wraps around us, giving us a lumpy barrier.  “I didn’t even get a chance to spend our winnings.”

 

Kaaras brandishes his sword, “Money isn’t everything Herah.”

 

“Bite your tongue,” Malika has both daggers out.  “See, that’s why you Tal-Vashoth bastards are only mercenaries, and not upstanding citizens, like the Merchant Guild are.”

 

Bianca’s clicks carry over the noise, “What?  No one told me we’re supposed to be upstanding citizens.”  Varric’s sighting on the mob.  “I must have missed that Guild meeting.”

 

Staff glowing, Solas summons a ball of fire in his free hand.  I watch it form, the smallest of orange flickers, to the promise of a raging inferno.  “Protect Eevee.  Do not let them take her.  She is Thedas’ only hope.”  His words rip my eyes away from the fire, he doesn’t sound like he believes he’s going to survive this.

 

“So, you chose death,” Isla has a bow in her hands.  One of her hands reaches over her shoulder, plucks an arrow from her quiver, and sets it in the bow.  Drawing the string back, she sights on Solas.

 

NO.

 

“ ** _She will kill him_** ,” Valour says, and this is the last fucking straw.  Stumbling around Solas, I get in front of him, my back to his stomach, and I try my best to shield him from the arrow.  Holding my arms out wide, I close my eyes, and brace for the impact.

 

To my ears the twang of the bow is shockingly loud.

 

In my head I can see Herah’s padded barrier.  It shatters as pain explodes in my right shoulder.  A scream, filled with more pain than I can imagine, chases me down as my legs collapse under me.  Above me, any hold I had on the ice slips through my fingers.

 

**oOo**

 

Opening my eyes, I’m standing in my living room.  My right shoulder is killing me, but there’s no arrow there.  Looking around, I’m alone.  “Solas?”

 

No one answers me.

 

Carefully I move to my sofa and fall into it.  Wincing at the pain, I can’t help but wonder at how fucking stupid I am.  Who in their right mind steps in front of a bloody arrow?

 

“ ** _Someone with extreme courage_** ,” Valour says.  Turning my head, I watch as a sandy coloured cat walks around the edge of my sofa.  No, not a cat.  A miniature lioness, the size of a domestic cat, is standing there.  With shiny bits of armour on.  Sitting down, its tail swings around the front, attached to it are small round metal balls on tiny chains.  There are mini metal gloves on its feet.

 

“And extreme stupidity,” I shoot back.  Seriously my shoulder hurts.  A lot.

 

“ ** _Perhaps_** ,” It gives a kitty shoulder shrug.  “ ** _Yet, all have now seen a human attack the Herald of Andraste, and watched her felled by the betraying blow.  A hail storm of furious power is lashing Haven.  We have called the Mabari, Harts, and crows of Haven to your side.  They will aid your Wolf and defenders.  Once you are safely carried out of Haven, an avalanche will seal the exit.  The humans here will have plenty of time to learn from their actions_**.”

 

Avalanche?

 

“ ** _Yes_** ,” It nods its little head, the light glinting on the shaped metal helm thingy it’s wearing.  Its little ears poke up through it.  They flick backwards and Valour hisses at me, “ ** _I am not cute.  I am Valour_**.”

 

A tinkling laugh, and a tiny grey puffball of a kitten skitters across the floor.  Dancing around in the adorable way kittens do, it says, “ ** _I am Joy_**.”  Its voice is like a child’s.  A wooden stick with string tied to it, and feathers at the end of the string, appears by my left hand.  “ ** _Play with me_** ,” Joy is bouncing around near my feet.  “ ** _Please?_** ”

 

“ ** _Peace_** ,” Faith’s voice comes from near my window.  A white cat with tortoise shell patches on it is sitting there.  It’s wearing a cream and red jacket.  On its head is one of the stupid Chantry hats.  “ ** _MJ is in pain.  Let her rest_**.”

 

“ ** _Oh_** ,” Joy’s ears droop, then prick up, as a small ball appears by its paws.  It starts batting the ball around, chasing it, and stumbling over its own feet.

 

Standing up Valour gives me a nod, “ ** _I am needed elsewhere.  I will inform the Wolf you are safe here.  He will make you safe there.  Then he will join you.  Until then, Joy will keep you company_**.”  It vanishes, as does Faith.  Leaving me alone with Joy, who is stalking the ball, tries to pounce, sending the ball flying, even as it trips and ends up face first in the carpet.

 

As fun as Joy is, I hope Solas and the others are okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative chapter title: I Shot the Herald (But I Did Not Shoot The Dread Wolf)


	29. Scream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, Happy New Year? - Here's hoping it is an amazing one for everyone.  
> Also warnings apply for this chapter. Grief, Death, and, as Varric would say, Creepy Shit.  
> Please take care of yourself.

Echoes of her mother’s screams haunt Herah.  They’d brought what was left of their brother home.  And then the screams had torn right through them all.  She’s been hunting since she was a kid, heard the dying screams of the animals they’d killed for food.  She’s been a mercenary for seven years, she’s heard the screams of people dying around her.  None of them ever held the unbearable pain her mother’s screams had that day.

 

She never thought she’d hear anything worse than those screams.

 

She was wrong.

 

Solas’ wailing keen rips her apart.  Drowning her in grief and sorrow words can never fully express.

 

Around them, everyone, even the fucking humans, stop in their tracks to stare, the sound like a physical blow.  Herah can only watch in horror as Eevee’s legs give out.  Solas drops his staff, the fireball in his other hand vanishes, as he catches her, lowering her gently to the ground.  Not once does his howling scream stop.

 

“NO!” Is ripped from Herah’s throat.  It’s echoed by her brother, Varric, and Malika.

 

No.

 

Eevee can’t be dead.

 

She can’t be.

 

**oOo**

 

On the floor Joy has righted itself and starts chasing the ball again.  Mid pounce it notices it has a tail.  Said tail twitches.  Suddenly Joy changes target from the ball to its tail.

 

In attempting to catch its new arch nemesis, the tail, Joy starts running in a circle, but the dastardly tail is too fast, staying just out of reach.  Switching up its tactics, it tries rolling about on the floor, using its paws to grab the tail, but the tricky tail is too nimble, slipping out of Joy’s grasp.

 

After all the bad things that have happened, including getting shot, this moment of innocent fun is just what I needed.  A giggle snort is dragged out of me at Joy’s antics.

 

No wonder Solas said he preferred the Fade.  And Spirits are amazing people.  I wish more mages could learn to talk to them without fear .

 

Speak of Solas, and he shall yell, “Vhenan!”  His voice so loud the whole house shakes.

 

“Yeah?” I try and yell back.  I’m not very loud, not compared to him.

 

“Vhenan, you are safe,” His voice is weird.  Like it’s coming from loud speakers, outside the house.  “Look to the window my love.”

 

Doing as I’m told, all I can see is black through the glass, “There’s nothing there.”  In lots of TV programs and films, there’s a moment where the hero, or heroes, are at an opening, normally a wall, but it’s blocked by something.  And then the something moves, revealing a giant eye.  This is one of those moments.  Black opens diagonally, to show a glowing red eye, it has no pupil.

 

“Ah, I see you now,” Solas blinks once.  Or what I hope is Solas.  “Please stay inside.  Stay safe.  Do not open the door to anyone.  Do not let them in.”

 

“Okay?”  I don’t get it, but not opening the door is easy enough to do.

 

“I will be there soon.  Wait for me.  Do not leave.  Do not open the door.  You must let no one in.” He’s being very insistent.

 

“Got it,” I nod to show him I understand.  Well, I know what he wants me to do, but I don’t know why.  He lets his eye close again.  “Weird,” I mutter under my breath.  Settling back on the sofa, I look down to see Joy has stopped chasing its tail, it’s now sitting down staring at me.

 

**oOo**

 

“Eevee!”  Kaaras yells her name, dread pooling in his stomach.  From here all he can see are her legs, they're not moving, as Solas curls over her fallen body.  A sound, worse than their mother’s screams, comes from the elf.  His harrowing wail chilling Kaaras’ blood.

 

All at once he’s back there.

 

His older brother off to his right.  Arrows coming towards them thick and fast.  His brother’s shield held up.  Charging with the others across the grass.  A war cry joyously yelled.  Slamming into the bandit’s disjointed shield wall.  His sword swung with all his might.  Blood from the bandits spraying everywhere.  At the end, turning to grin at his brother. 

 

To see one last bandit. 

 

Dagger in his raised hand.

 

Screaming his brother’s name, “Talan!”  Feet digging into the ground beneath him, propelling him towards his brother, to protect his brother, and strike this human down.

 

Talan turning, so slowly.  His shield in the wrong position.  The human slashing wildly.  Talan’s body jerking in time with the slashes.  And then his brother’s legs buckling.  Talan’s knees hitting the ground.

 

A flash of sunlight on the dagger’s metal blade at his brother’s throat.

 

Crimson drops flung into the air.

 

Too late.

 

He’s too late.

 

Talan sliding sideways.

 

Shaking his head, Kaaras clears it, to see Solas still curled over Eeevee’s unmoving body.

 

Too late.

 

He’s too late.

 

He’s always too fucking late.

 

**oOo**

 

“ ** _I am Joy_**.”  It tells me again.  A wooden stick with string tied to it, and feathers at the end of the string, appears by my left hand.  “ ** _Play with me_** ,” Joy is bouncing around near my feet.  “ ** _Please_**.”

 

Confused I stare at it.

 

It stops bouncing, its child like voice turns pouty, “ ** _Why won’t you play with me?_** ”

 

“Um, Faith already told you I’m hurt.  So, I can’t play with you at the moment,” I don’t know why it’s asking me to play again.  “Look,” I point at the ball it was playing with earlier.  “There’s a ball.”

 

Turning its head, its ears perk up, and it starts stalking the ball, tries to pounce, sending the ball flying, even as it trips and ends up face first in the carpet.  Which is exactly what it did before.

 

**oOo**

 

Violets.

 

He hates the smell of violets.

 

His mother loved them.  Always happiest when the little flowers bloomed.  They were one of the few things she loved about the surface.  Each year he, and Bartrand, would compete, to see who could pick her the first violets. 

 

He usually won.

 

Mother would make her own perfume from violets.  She put it in everything.  Soap.  The linens.  She made the servants wash all their clothes in it.  She even put them in the food.  The scent of violets hung in every room of their house.  He always knew when he was home, because he could smell violets.  Kirkwall smelt of shit, piss, and unwashed humans. But home; Home always smelt of violets.

 

Home always smelt of Mother.

 

Then there was the spring he’d won, again.  Clutching his prize in hand, he’d gone home, determined to prove he was better than his brother, again.  And Mother had already gone to bed, in the middle of the day, saying she was tired.  Cook had taken the violets from him, using them to make Mother’s favourite dish.

 

The dish was returned uneaten.

 

Father and Bartrand brushed away his concerns.  Mother was just unwell.  She’d get better.  Even Mother told him to hush, she was fine.

 

They all ignored it.

 

Mother’s interest in eating never returned.  She grew thinner.  More tired.  Weaker.  He’d helped the servants care for her.  Even when her skin changed colour, going yellow, she’d refused any healer, waving way his worries.  By the time her stomach swelled it was too late.

 

At the end, she’d raved in fever dreams, only wanting one thing; to return to her beloved Orzammar, to go back to the Stone.  Smells coming from her had been fouler than anything Kirkwall ever threw up.  Violets mixed with the scent of her slow decaying death filled the house.  A concoction so repulsive he, and the servants, had gagged, struggling not to vomit.

 

After the funeral, he’d held the little pot of her ashes, as Father and Bartrand schemed how to get the pot smuggled into Orzammar.  Instead, he’d taken her to the best spot in Kirkwall to pick violets, the Viscount’s Gardens, overlooking the sea, and emptied her pot there.

 

He’d never gone back to the spot.

 

He’d also never gone back to the house.  He couldn’t.  He’d found a set of rooms, at a place called the Hanged Man.  All he could smell there was shit, piss, unwashed humans, and stale vomit.

 

Abruptly Chuckles’ heart stopping wail cuts out, dragging Varric back to the here and now.  The silence is deafening.  Bent over Mouse’s body, the elf sits up, gently cradling his wife.  Mouse isn’t moving.

 

Varric goes cold.

 

Shit.

 

Shit.  Shit.  Shit.

 

Even in the short time he’s known her, Varric’s well aware this woman is defenceless.  He’s met new-born nugs with better combat skills.  And in Thedas, defenceless means dead, or worse.

 

This human has looked at him like Hawke always has.  Like he’s a person.  Like he matters.  And there was something else.  Something important.  He’s seen heroes, spoken to them, fought beside them, but the hole in the sky?  That’s beyond heroes.  They’re going to need a miracle.

 

And for a moment, under the Breach, Varric almost thought she was going to close it.

 

Then she’d fallen.

 

When the elf lifts his head up, Varric expects him to tell them the worst.  “She lives.  She lives,” Is choked out, and suddenly Varric can breathe again, the memory of violets pushed back out of the way.

 

Cocking Bianca he sights on the human who shot Mouse.  Pulling the trigger feels good.  She doesn’t even scream.  Bolts hit the woman’s torso,  ripping into her lungs, her scout armour's no barrier to Bianca.  He takes a moment and puts a bolt through her throat.  One last bolt crunches into her skull, right where the mark of Tranquillity is normally branded.

 

The Seeker’s going to kill him slow for this. 

 

He doesn’t care.

 

And then a huge chunk of ice falls out of the sky right on top of the human’s corpse.

 

**oOo**

 

On the floor Joy has righted itself and starts chasing the ball again.  Mid pounce it notices it has a tail.  Said tail twitches.  Suddenly Joy changes target from the ball to its tail.

 

I watch as it repeats its earlier actions.  Chasing its tail.  Rolling on the floor grasping its tail.  I don’t know what’s going on.  I don’t understand.

 

Sitting up, Joy cocks its head at me.  Except the angle is wrong.  No cat can twist its head so far.  “ ** _You didn’t giggle_** ,” It says, voice back to a petulant tone.

 

“What?”  I’m so confused.  And the hairs on the back of my neck are starting to stand up.  I want to wake up now.

 

“ ** _You.  Didn’t.  Giggle_** ,” On the floor, the little grey kitten is changing, morphing into something else.  A little elven child is kneeling there.  It looks just like the little girl who fell over in the eating area.  “ ** _I am Joy_** ,” The Spirit says.  “ ** _And you will play with me_**.”  A sweet smile slides over its face, but again, the angle is wrong.  No one smiles like that.

 

I really, really, really want to wake up now.

 

Please dear god let me wake up now.

 

“ ** _No_** ,” It pouts at me.  “ ** _I don’t want you to wake up.  I don’t want you to go.  I want you to stay and play with me.  I can see the memories of so many fun games in your head_** ,” Ice cold dread travels down my spine.  “ ** _We’re going to have so much fun together_**.”

 

It gets to its feet.  I press my back into the sofa wishing I could run.  “ ** _No_** ,” It shakes his head.  “ ** _I don’t want to play chase yet_**.”  Oh good.  “ ** _We can play chase later_** ,” Oh fuck.  “ ** _No naughty words!_** ”  It wags a little finger at me.  “ ** _Or I’ll have to punish you_**.”

 

Maybe I can scream for Solas?

 

“ ** _No_** ,” Joy crosses its arms.  “ ** _He’ll spoil our fun.  I don’t want to share you with him.  You’re going to be my friend forever and ever_**.”  It stamps a little foot.

 

I do the only thing I can think of.  I scream.  It’s not very loud.  Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes, and scream as hard as I can.  Please dear god, let Solas hear me.  Pain explodes in my right shoulder.  Opening my eyes, I see grey clouds in the sky, and grey eyes with a hint of blue stare into mine.  “Vhenan?”

 

“Solas?  Are you real?  Are you really Solas?” I hiss the words, having to breath around the pain.  I remember worse pain, during the accident, after when they were cutting me out, and in the hospital.

 

“Vhenan, what has happened?”  He’s doing the concerned face.  His voice is soft.  Please let this be the real Solas.

 

“Joy.  Joy said,” I’m in shock.  I can feel my body is in shock.  I’m hot and cold all at he same time.  Around the edges of my vision, the colour is bleeding out, turning everything grey.

 

Frowning, Solas asks, “Joy?  Joy was there?  You should have been alone.”  His arms tighten around me.  “You should never open the door Vhenan.  Spirits are dangerous.”

 

“I didn’t.  I didn’t open the door,” My breath is getting shorter.  “Please.  Please.  I don’t want to go back.  Don’t make me go back.”

 

“Ma nuvenin,” He nods, and my vision clears, the pain fades from sharp to a dull ache.  I can breathe again.


	30. Ice Storm

“Eevee?”  Kaaras’ head appears in my eyeline.  Distracted by the arrow in my shoulder, I do try and smile at him, I may end up grimacing instead.

 

“We must get her to Master Adan,” Solas is being all brisk and urgent.  And I back him one hundred percent, because, arrow, in my shoulder.  Through my own stupid fault.

 

The others move closer, I’m sure Varric was saying starting to say something, when he gets drowned out by hail smashing into the ground.  Overhead, the clouds light up with blinding electric blue streaks arcing across the sky.  Bone shaking thunder rattles my teeth.

 

There’s this moment where Solas and Kaaras share a look, Kaaras yells, “We have to get Eevee to safety.”

 

“The tunnel,” Solas has to yell back, to make himself heard over the background noise of Mother Nature.  “Master Adan should be there too.”  No one else says anything.  They all nod instead.

 

Solas braces me into a sitting position, then puts my right arm into a makeshift sling, which almost has me passing out when he moves my shoulder.  “Ir abelas,” He has to shout it into my ear.  Manoeuvring around me, he scoops me up into his arms, my left shoulder against his body, so I can loop my left arm around his neck.  Thankfully the sling helps keep my right arm and shoulder fairly still.

 

Around us, all the other humans are yelling, and running about like headless chickens.  Tiny spheres of ice occasionally dribble onto us.  Huge boulder sized slabs of hail smash into the ground near us.  They’re extremely impressive.  And frightening.  I really don’t want one of those to hit us.

 

Speed walking, we pick our way through the chaos.  Where there used to be a field of tents, now there’s only flattened canvas.  We were surrounded by angry and threatening humans, I can’t see one any more through the poor visibility of the hail.  Lightning probes the sky, sending fingers down to the ground, and setting some of the downed tents on fire.  Between the hail and the thunder, talking is impossible.  And then the wind picks up, blowing straight into our faces.

 

I’m so glad we’re getting out of here.  I really wouldn’t want to have to ride this storm out.

 

Hanging onto consciousness by my fingertips, I’m aware I’m skipping time, zoning out, and blinking back to full awareness.  Thankfully I’m not sliding back into the Fade.  I can feel a barrier between me and the Fade.  It’s holding me here.

 

Gritting my teeth against the pain of my shoulder, the light headedness, nausea, and general other shock symptoms, I try and find something to concentrate on.  Solas’ face is right in front of me.  Narrowing my focus, I stare straight at him.  Studying the harsh cut of his cheekbones, the dusting of freckles, the angle of his jaw, his eyebrows, eyelashes, and even his ear.

 

Earlier I’d noticed his body dimensions are all wrong to be human.  This also applies to his ear.  I can see the general hearing shape of his ear isn’t too different from my own.  From there the cartilage parts are nothing alike.  Mine has a small outgrowth of cartilage on top, which I know is round.  Like before he’s made up of straight lines, his cartilage is long, drawn out, graceful.  His ears follow the same line as his cheekbones, accentuating them further.  He really is beautiful.

 

Solas’ gait changes, bumping me, and I hiss in pain.  To find we’re not out in the open anymore.  We’re in a stone corridor.  If that corridor is three times taller than Kaaras, wide enough we could all walk down it, arms outstretched, and not touch the sides.  Flickering torch light fails to illuminate it properly.

 

I’d been blanking out sound, since it was just hail, thunder, and wind.  Now voices rush to fill the void.  I’m not with it enough to make out what they’re saying, but they are pointing, mostly at me.

 

Several someone’s are yelling.

 

For parts of my physio, I was lucky enough to have the use of the hospital pool.  They’re not available everywhere.  I remember ducking my head under the water, the way the water dulls your hearing.  This is similar.  I know people are talking.  I know they’re yelling.  Yet, their words are distorted, distant, not real.

 

Torches blur as I struggle to look at them.  Distance vision is out, so I switch back to Solas’ face.  Better.  My eyes can focus on close objects.

 

Stopping, Solas starts to drop me.  Panicking, I try to hang onto him.  He goes still and presses his forehead to mine.  His skin feels warm compared to mine.  Again, he goes to drop me.  My shoulder hurts too much to do anything.  Only he’s arms are still holding me close.  But we’re going down.  And then he’s gently helping me lay down on the ground.

 

Oh.

 

He was just putting me down.

 

My left arm stays around his neck.

 

Tugging at my right shoulder drags more hisses of pain from me.  My eyes slam shut as I ride out the pain.  When it stops.  I struggle to get my breathing under control.  Opening my eyes, I turn my head to see what’s going on.

 

I really wish I hadn’t.

 

I can see my bare shoulder.  There’s a wooden twig thing sticking out of it.  Blood is seeping out around the twig.

 

Dark skinned fingers probe my skin near the twig.  Pain lances through me.  There’s something wrong with the fingers.  They’re too long.  Too thin.  They’re burning hot on my skin.  Looking up, there’s a face with the same skin tone.  Eyes too big for his face, with irises of brown so pretty, someone could have dripped chocolate into them.  Strange yellow and green tattoos curl under his eyes.  His face is framed by jet black hair.

 

Other fingers curl around my face, scalding hot where they touch me, gently encouraging me to look to the left.  Familiar grey eyes with a hint of blue are staring at me.  His fingers are on my face.  My mouth automatically curls up at the edges, as I press into his fingers.  Nothing bad can happen if he’s here.

 

I’m safe.

 

His lips move, the sound too distorted, I don’t understand.

 

Frowning, he closes his eyes, a wash of energy passing over me.  When he opens his eyes he asks, “Vhenan?  Can you hear me?”

 

“Yeah,” I croak at him.  His voice is musical, lyrical, throbbing with emotion.  Mine sounds like I sandblasted my vocal chords, or I have a throat infection.

 

“We must remove the arrow my love. Ir abelas,” His eyes go stormy and drag me into them.  “This is will hurt.”  Okay.  “Adan and Mahanon have done this before.  Their hands are steadier than mine.”  Steady hands are good.  “I will cast a spell to dull the pain for you.  But the rest is up to you Beloved.  You must use your pain techniques to hold yourself still,” Huh?

 

“ ** _I will help you_** ,” Love is loud in my head.

 

A flare of something sinks into my shoulder, easing the pain, weakening it, like a really good dose of pain meds.  Not as good as Morphine, but still, compared to earlier, this is much better.

 

Music starts playing in my mind.  I recognise it from somewhere.  Solas’ humming along with it.  When the words scroll across my inner eye, we sing them together.  Oh yeah, Land of Confusion, the Disturbed version.

 

Love encourages me to curl my toes, then stretch them, then wiggle them.  A technique I learnt in the hospital.  I’m terrified of needles.  Looking away, moving your toes, and talking, or singing, helps you not faint.

 

Losing myself in the music, I’m able to blank out my shoulder completely.  It’s not true disassociation.  My toe movements, the singing, are keeping me in my body.  I’ve just built a wall between me and my shoulder.  If I have a true dissociative moment, it takes me far too long to settle back into my body.

 

Finishing the song, new music kicks in before reality can.  A guilty pleasure of mine, Nickleback, their When We Stand Together track.  It morphs into Enya and May It Be.  Which in turn becomes Morning Has Broken.  After that I stop keeping track, too caught up in grey eyes, with hints of blue that shift around hypnotically.

 

A rush of silence and I blink back to awareness.  Solas is speaking to someone.  Pain clamours for my attention.  Morbid fascination has me looking over at my shoulder.  This time all I can see are bandages.  My right arm has been moved across my body and angled up towards my left shoulder.  More bandages hold it in place.

 

Exhaustion is close on pain’s heels.  Grey is creeping along the edges of my vision.  Solas’ face floats in front of me, his voice cuts through everything, “Sleep.  Sleep now my love.  Rest.  Sleep.”

 

Sliding down into darkness, I feel soft black fur wrap around me, holding me close, and not once does the barrier to the Fade break.  I’m safe here.

 

**oOo**

 

He cannot hold her there for long.  She will soon slip into the Fade.  He must get her body settled, and quickly, so he can clear her home of an unwanted guest, before she arrives there.

 

With Herah and Mahanon’s help, his Heart is sat upright and supported, as he shifts into his bear shape.  They settle her between his front paws, wrapping blankets around her, propping her up against his chest.  Once there, she automatically curls into him.  His body heat will keep her warm, the blankets trapping it close, to help her stabilise her core temperature.

 

His earlier orders are being followed as this ragtag version of the Inquisition beds down for the evening.  In the morning they will begin properly.  Leading them from Haven into war torn Thedas, to bring peace to everyone.

 

Interference from Spirits is obvious everywhere.  While he is glad of their assistance, their help with guiding the hail stones was invaluable, he does not want to encourage too much help.  This side of the Veil is too static and immutable for them to truly comprehend.  He will speak to Wisdom soon.  The others should listen to a Spirit as old and as influential as it is.

 

Closing his eyes, he steps into the Fade, to the safe home he constructed for his Heart.  Opening the main door, he enters her main living room.  And just as she said, there is a Spirit there.

 

Currently it is in the shape of a small grey kitten.  Aware his Heart is extremely fond of these creatures he is unsurprised it choose this shape.  It would hold great appeal to her.  Sitting up, it gives him a look no kitten ever could, and says, “ ** _I am Joy_**.”  A wooden stick appears by his feet.  On one end a piece of coloured string has been tied.  At the other end of the string, is a small bundle of even more colourful feathers.  “ ** _Play with me_** ,” The Spirit demands.  “ ** _Please_** ,” Is added on as an afterthought.

 

Ah.

 

His Heart’s instincts are impeccable.  He understands her caution.  To have such a powerful Spirit simply appear.  She was right to run.

 

“No,” He tells it calmly.  He is not moved when its ears droop.  This being knows exactly what it is doing.

 

“ ** _Pease_** ,” It drops part of the word, developing a slight lisp.  Its eyes widen.  Fur already soft and welcoming becomes more so.

 

While there is no intentional malice in its actions, and most children it visits would simply have a joy filled dream, his Heart is not a child.  This being has no understanding of the harm it could cause her.

 

“No,” A lifetime of interaction with Spirits allows him to pick the Spirit up.  It tries a few more ploys to tempt him into playing.  He gently deposits it outside the door.  “MJ is unwell and must heal.  Perhaps, when she is well, she may decide she wishes to play.”  And only after she has had many lessons with him on how to safely interact with Spirits.

 

“ ** _Meanie_** ,” It pouts, unfolding out of the shape it had hidden itself in, and into its true shape.  Its sheer size and power are worthy of extreme respect.  This Spirit is very old.  Older than even Wisdom.  Flouncing off into the Fade it leaves without causing an incident.  Though he has no doubt it will be back.

 

Renewing the wards on this home he has made for his Heart, he dissolves the barrier holding her from the Fade, and welcomes her with open arms.

 

**oOo**

 

Tethras, the dwarf, has been telling everyone what supposedly happened.  He doesn’t believe him.  No shem would ever step in front of an arrow for one of the people.  Especially not for a flat ear.

 

Except.

 

Except, when he’d been helping remove the arrow from the shem’s shoulder, she’d looked at him.  No human has ever looked at him like that.  There was innocent curiosity in her gaze.  And then her tame flat ear had turned her head, and she’d smiled at him, like he really was her spouse.  Muscles tense from pain had relaxed.  With only a simple pain dulling spell, she’d not moved, as he, and the shem healer, had seen to her shoulder.

 

He’s pulled arrows from his Clan before, it took many people to hold the patient down, while it was done.  And all she and the flat ear had done differently was to sing.  Words from the songs she’d sung with the flat ear keep ringing in his head.  Filling him with a sense of something.

 

“Here,” His twin throws herself down next to him.  In her hands a bowl of food for him.

 

“Thank you,” He says it without thinking.  Her sneer at his thanks is normal to him now.  He barely remembers the happy smiling little girl she used to be.  Turning from him, she curls up, and is instantly asleep.  In her hands are both her daggers.

 

Eating the stew, he grimaces at how badly these flat ears cook.  He missies his Clan.  He misses his family.  His Mamae made the most wonderful food.  Forcing another mouthful down, he eats everything.  At least there is food.  How many days did he and Ellana go without on their journey to this shem meeting?  Too many to count.

 

Sighing, he takes the bowl back to the cook.  Before settling himself down near his twin.  But not too near.  Even he isn’t safe from her daggers, or her temper.

 

Tomorrow he’ll have to make a decision on their future.  He has no idea what to do next.  He was meant to be First of their Clan, until the day their Keeper passed on, then he would take up the mantle of Keeper.  Instead, he and Ellana, are banished, never to return.

 

All because of Ellana.

 

Closing his eyes, he sets wards, and slides into the Fade.  Melodies and words wrap themselves around him as he dreams.

 

**oOo**

 

Standing at the tunnel’s exit, she stares into the darkness beyond.  There’s no need to guard the other end, the Maker had sent an avalanche to block it.  “Tell me the truth,” Her cousin’s voice is as quiet as he can make it.  “Did she really do it?”

 

“Yeah, she really did,” Malika keeps her voice quiet too.  “She couldn’t fight off a half dead nug. But,” She swallows, stomach rebelling whenever she thinks of the moment the human was shot.  “But she did it.  She took the arrow for the elf.”  A shudder goes through her as she remembers his scream.  She never wants to hear it again.

 

“Shit,” Edric curses.

 

“Yeah,” Malika rolls her shoulders to loosen them up.  Sentry duty is boring, but necessary.  She has to stop herself from humming one of the songs sung earlier.  Together they keep watch, neither of them speaking, until she blurts out, “I’m staying.”

 

“Me too,” He steps closer.  “You think she’ll last the night?  You know some arrow wounds.  They turn.  Adan’s good.  But,” He breaks off.

 

“She’ll make it,” Malika doesn’t even hesitate.  The human was stronger than she looked.  Touched.  But strong.  And, she really was Andraste’s Herald.  If Malika hadn’t been there, hadn’t seen for herself, she’d never believe the Maker had sent the ice storm to punish the humans the way He had.  He’d only do that for the Herald of his Bride.

 

Falling into silence, they stand guard for the rest of their shift.


	31. This Is Me

“Vhenan,” Solas is standing there holding his arms out to me.  Shoulder aching, I stumble over to him and lean into him.  His arms wrap around me and I’m safe again.

 

Safe.

 

Fuck.

 

Looking around my living room wildly I hiss, “Where is it?”

 

“Gone,” He tells me, and I relax.  “For now,” I tense again.  “I do not understand why it is so focused on you.  But we shall discover the reason together.  And deal with it together.”

 

“Okay,” I nod into his shoulder and settle more comfortably against him.  Together; I like that idea.  Not having to deal with things on my own.  Having someone there.

 

“Come, let us retire to your bed,” His fingers stroke through my short hair.  “You will be able to rest more easily there.”  His idea is sensible, but I dig my mental heels in.  “My love, do you not wish to rest?”

 

“I,” I don’t know what I want.  Except I don’t want to go to bed.  Or rest in bed.  I want to do something else for once.  Long graceful fingers caress the nape of my neck, playing with the shaved parts of my hair.  I have it clipped short there, when you rub upwards it feels so soft.  “Wait.”  Solas gave me long hair.  “Why is my hair short?”

 

Fingers on my neck go still, and he pulls away from me a little, so he can stare down into my eyes, “Because you believe your hair is short.  This is how you have chosen to have your hair.”  A frown flickers over his face.  “Hmm, perhaps it will be easier to show you.  Come.  We shall go to your bathing room.  There is a mirror there.”

 

Okay, well it’s not resting in bed, so I let him lead me to my own bedroom, and through to my bathroom.  This is the only room with a mirror.  I never had room to put them anywhere else.  At least that’s what I told myself.  It took a few years of therapy to accept my scars, to look at them, and know they were simply part of me.

 

My bathroom isn’t big.  A toilet, sink, and the special wetroom shower I was allowed to have via a special grant.  It meant I didn’t have to lift my legs up to get in the shower.  There are handrails for me to hold onto.  I even have a shower chair so I can sit down and wash.  And on the back of the bathroom door is a long mirror.

 

Urging me off to one side, Solas shuts the door, has me shut my eyes, and then gently coaxes me to stand in a spot.  “Now, my Heart.  Open your eyes.”  Doing as I’m told, I stare at a face I’ve seen since I was born.

 

“It’s me!”  Short dark brown hair.  Dark eyes.  Skin kissed with faint Mediterranean genes, meaning I go a fantastic golden colour in summer.  And scars visible even on my face.  I’m wearing the same patchwork leather armour I fell asleep in.  My right arm is up in the sling, binding it close to my body.

 

“Of course,” Solas is right behind me.  Resting his chin on my left shoulder, he wraps his arms around me.  “The Fade reflects the world around it and is affected by our imaginations.  This is how you see yourself.  So this is how you appear.  This is you.”

 

My left hand is already up and touching my face.  Tracing a scar when the stupid big green light embedded in my hand gets in the way.  “Urgh, what about this thing?”  I shake the offending thing.

 

A big sigh and he holds me tightly, “Beloved, you cannot understand the depths of my sorrow.  My Mark is permanent.  It cannot be removed.  Not even death will part it from you.”

 

Huh?  “But you take it from me,” After the final battle.  After everyone leaves.  At the big meeting, when Thedas turns on the Inquisition.  “It destabilises, I’m going to lose my arm,” And Solas is going to take his Mark and leave.  He always leaves.

 

“No.  Not this time,” Lifting his head, he uses the mirror’s reflection to look me straight in the eye.  “This time the Mark is yours.  I cannot take it from you.  It will never be parted from you.  It is yours and yours alone.”

 

Oh.

 

Brain skidding in circles I stare at my hand.  If I was a computer, this would be a blue screen of death moment.  Circuits fried.  I have no way to deal with this new info dump.  “Um,” Is all my mouth can get out.

 

“As you do not want to rest.  What would you like to do instead?” He asks me, like he hasn’t just ripped up the rule book, and thrown the world into complete chaos.

 

“Huh?”  I really need to get a grip.

 

“You enjoy cooking,” Is all he says, not helping me grapple with the bigger picture.  “Your kitchen is stocked with whatever you believe is in it.  You could cook anything.”  Really?  I can cook food in the Fade?  “Or there are many skeins of yarn for you to crochet with.  Music to be played.  The thing with the moving pictures telling stories.”

 

“Um,” I give myself a mental shake.  “I guess music or TV then.”  His reflection cocks his head and quirks an eyebrow at me.  “My shoulder is, you know, all fucked right now.”  All because I stepped in front of an arrow.  Because I’m an idiot.  I have magic.  My barrier would have stopped the stupid thing.  Screw blowing my cover of exhaustion.  Better that than an arrow in my shoulder.

 

“Is it?”  One of his hands comes up and my bandages dissolve right in front of my eyes.  Dropping my right arm down.  Waiting for the excruciating pain, I tense, but nothing.  No pain.  “Across the Veil, in your physical body, there is an injury.  Here, in the Fade, there is no injury.”

 

Holding my right hand up in front of my face, I tentatively roll my shoulder.  There’s still no pain.  I do it again.  Everything’s still okay.  “Huh,” I frown at him in the mirror.  “You realise you could have just explained that.”

 

“I will remember for future lessons,” Solas promises me.  “Now, my love, what would you like to do?”

 

Standing in my own bathroom, wearing stuff I’ve been in all day, I really want a shower.  When I tell Solas, he nods, and then simply goes about helping me strip my clothes off.  He turns it back into a lesson on how my new clothes work.  Encouraging me to undo the laces.  When we reach the footwraps, reverse engineering me out of them, helps me understand how to get into them.

 

Naked, I step in front of the mirror again.  All my scars are there.  Reaching out I touch the less sensitive ones.  They cover every part of me.  Twisting around I can see my back.  Most are from the accident.  Many are from the doctors desperately trying to save my life.  Some are more recent, removing mutated cancerous parts of my own body.  Those are the smallest ones, surgery has come a long way, and when surgeons have the chance to plan in advance, they can do keyhole.

 

Reconstruction surgery is amazing, but there are limits.

 

Staring at the woman in the mirror I smile.

 

This is me.

 

Turning away I walk slowly into the shower.  Now it’s my turn to teach Solas.  Indoor Earth plumbing is new to him.  And I have to show him which scars he can just touch, the ones that simply itch, or are sensitive, and finally the ones that still hurt, even after all these years.  He’s as brilliant at this part of caring as he’s been at all the others.  This is one of the best showers I’ve had in years.

 

**oOo**

 

Once more she has surprised him.

 

She had told him of her life.  Of the pain she had been through.  Of the battles she had fought.  How it was written on her skin.  Until this moment he hadn’t realised how deep the scars had cut her.

 

Listening to her instructions he helps her wash.  She had described this shower as an indoor waterfall with hot water.  It does not do it justice.  He wants to try this too.  Drying her with as much care as he washed her, he is careful of her many scars.  Then he helps her into Earth clothes.  He finds them far more practical.

 

Underclothes that pull on and sit perfectly in place.  Black trousers she calls jeans, closed with a button and the device named a zip.  A jerkin or tunic, she calls it a t-shirt.  Bright pinks swirled through the soft material, and the head of a unicorn is printed on the front.  A chuckle is pulled out of him at the message written on it, ‘I’d rather be a Unicorn.  So I can stab you with my head.’  It suits her.

 

**oOo**

 

Dressed in the t-shirt I’ve always wanted, but never owned, I stand in front of the mirror again.  “Solas?”

 

“Yes,” He steps right up to me ready to help.

 

Best carer in the world.

 

“You coloured my physical hair,” And I love the idea my hair has purple in it.  Even if it isn’t really my hair.  It’s Evelyn’s hair.  I’m just borrowing it as she’s no longer using it.

 

“I did,” Standing up straight, his hands go behind his back, and his face is neutral.

 

Staring at myself in my mirror, I ask him, “Can you colour my hair here in the Fade?  Can you add pink to it?”  If I’m going to wear a pink t-shirt, might as well have the hair to match.

 

“Yes,” And he’s back to hugging me.  “Tell me what you want.”  So I do.  Being the creative artist he is, he gets me to close my eyes, and then all I can feel are his fingers touching my hair.

 

**oOo**

 

Again, and again, she does nothing he expects her to.

 

Twisting the Fade to his will, he twists the colour of her hair to match her top.  Not all the hairs, simply some of them.  Flickers of colour in amongst the dark brown.  Teasing the viewer with one tiny facet of her fascinating inner self.

 

As much as he would love to stand here, and caress her hair for eternity, he takes his fingers from her hair.  And watches as her eyes open.  When her lips form a smile, he is rewarded with something infinitely more precious than all the jewels he has ever owned.


	32. The Best Laid Plans of Therapy Mice and Elves

“It’s perfect,” I crow at Solas.  He really is an amazing artist.  If he could do this on Earth, he’d make a fucking fortune in the hair trade.  “Thank you.”

 

“I am glad it pleases you,” He goes back to hugging me.  In the mirror I can see him press his face into my neck.  And then that’s it.  He doesn’t do anything else.  We just stand there as I admire my hair.

 

Confused I continue to stand there.

 

And stand there.

 

And stand some more.

 

Huh?

 

The last time he was this lethargic was when he was the bear.  Right after he fought the rapist bastard.  And right before he accidentally triggered me.  A frown forms on my face as I try and think this through properly.  Last time I got it wrong, and Wisdom, rightly, kicked me in the arse.

 

It said Solas would enjoy curling up and resting.  That doing so would do him good.  Why?  What am I missing?  I don’t want to rest.  For the first time in years, I feel full of energy, I want to do something, anything.  Resting in bed sounds like the most boring thing possible.

 

Taking my time, I pick my way through this problem.

 

And then I want to facepalm for being so fucking stupid.

 

Since I’ve been in Thedas I’ve mostly been unconscious.  Or escorted up a mountain.  I didn’t do any fighting, everyone else did the fighting.  Then Solas stood guard over me, while I got to sleep off the effects of stabilising the Breach.  Since then he’s cared for me non-stop.  Even in hospitals carers take turns.  It’s tiring caring for people.

 

On top of all that, he changed his shape to carry me all the way to the Chantry.  And he pranced the whole way there.  God, after the whole ‘Inquisition Reborn’ moment he just wanted to take a nap.  When we tried to leave the Chantry there was a confrontation.  At the tavern he had to defend me, twice.  He carried me through Haven, in his arms, to a safe space.

 

I’m not sure I could carry him as far.  He’s an elf.  I’ve seen how his body is built, and yes, there’s muscle, but he’s not bulky.  Fuck, the body I’m in is human, and it probably weighs more than his does.  Lugging me around couldn’t have been easy.

 

During lunch he was triggered for the second time in less than twenty-four hours.  He had to come up with a plan to get us out of Haven.  At the same time, he was still caring for me, helping me with my food.

 

Guilt claws at my insides.

 

Fuck.

 

I’m such a selfish bitch.  No wonder Wisdom said what it did.  It was too nice to me.  I’ve been taking advantage of Solas.  Yes, I’m new to Thedas.  Yes, I’m going to make mistakes, my shoulder throbs in a sharp reminder of at least one major mistake.  But I have no excuse for my behaviour towards Solas.

 

Right.

 

I might not need a rest.  But he does.  So, I’m going to return the favour and try to care for him.  I feel this isn’t going to go so well.  I got an awesome therapy wolf.  He’s going to get a fucking useless therapy mouse out of the deal.  I’ve had a lifetime of being on the receiving end of excellent caring.  I just have to turn it around and give some back.

 

No time like the present.

 

“Solas?” I call his name softly.  His arms squeeze me and relax.  Shit.  God knows how much energy he had to use to kick Joy out of this place.  How close to collapse is he?  “Hey, Solas?”

 

Finally, he moves his face enough to look at me in the mirror, “Vhenan?”  His mouth is right next to my ear.  Wow.  I can see why writers make such a fuss about that.

 

Stalling a little on how to get him to rest, my brain hands me a plan, or at least some simple steps to follow.  “How about we listen to a book?”  I’ve fallen asleep so many times listening to my favourite audible books.  You get an awesome book, and an amazing reader, and there’s a whole world of listening pleasure to enjoy.  The best readers are those who can do the different voices.

 

“Listen to a book?”  Solas cocks his head to one side.  Ah an audible book virgin.  He’s in for a treat.

 

“Yeah, we’ll curl up on the bed.  Put a book on, listen to a few chapters, relax,” And I know just the book.  It’ll let him rest.  While I can take some time out to think.

 

“Together?”  Is his only query.

 

“Together,” I confirm, and he agrees without any argument.  Fuck.  He really is tired.  I’m such a bad Herald.  I’m going to have to do better.  Running through the steps I’d normally take to have a book listening session.  I gently ask him to take a shower, then he can get into some PJs which appear from nowhere, as I promise to go make him some cocoa.

 

Leaving him to it, I close the bathroom door behind me, and limp to the kitchen.  He said I could cook in the Fade.  Making him cocoa shouldn’t be hard.  Maybe I can scrounge up some cookies for him too.

 

**oOo**

 

Alone, he obeys her wishes.  This shower is beyond anything non-magical he has ever experienced.  Next, he applies soap to his naked body.  Perhaps the reason she left is because of his nakedness?  In their cabin she had stared with such wide eyes at him.  Her fear of men is extremely ingrained.

 

Rinsing the bubbles from his skin, he touches the scars he knows are there.  MJ had faced her scars without any shame, showing them to him, explaining them to him.  Soft fluffy towels dry his skin.  And then he pulls on the Earth clothes she made for him.  No wonder she dislikes current Thedas clothes, these are far superior.  Only at the height of the last Elvhen Empire could any cloth complete with these.

 

Nakedness covered, he steps into her bedroom, to find her already there.  She is fussing around the bed.  Spotting him, she beams a smile at him, as if seeing him brings her joy.  “Here, I made you cocoa,” His Heart holds a cup of the bitter liquid out to him.

 

In Skyhold she had often bothered Varric for this strange ingredient.  Then she would vanish to her bed chambers to brew this drink there.  Only once did she drink it with The Iron Bull.  Intrigued, he himself had also tried it, the bitterness had stuck to his mouth for many hours.

 

Once more, he is glad for the many pieces of literature she left for him in her memories.  This is a classic example of female caring.  She enjoys cocoa, so she assumes he will also enjoy it, and wishes to share the experience.  There are worse things to drink than cocoa, and he has drunk them in front of his worst enemies, without showing any hint of his true disgust.  He will suffer the cocoa, he will share in his Heart’s experience, and he will begin building a new life with her.

 

Taking the proffered cup from her, with thanks, he finds strange little white shapes floating on the top.  Smells coming from it are sweet, not bitter.  Hands clasped in front of her she watches him, “Are the marshmallows too much?  I wasn’t sure how you took your hot chocolate.”  A look of concern settles on her face, “Can you eat dairy?  Only I made it with cow’s milk, and I know some people can’t eat dairy.”

 

“Calm Vhenan,” He tells her trying to put her at ease.  In Skyhold, The Iron Bull made his with water.  Perhaps the milk with make this more palatable, or at least disguise the worst of the bitterness.  To please her, he lifts the cup to his lips, and sips.

 

It is nothing like the bitter disgusting brew he drank in Skyhold.  This is sweet.  Milky.  The white things are part melted, part chewy sugary clouds.  There is nothing feigned of his enjoyment of his next sip, or the next.  All too soon the cup is drained of the hot beverage.  And in front of him is a woman, almost vibrating in place, her eyes tracking from the empty cup in his hands, to his face, and back again.  “Well?  Was it okay?”

 

“It was delicious,” He is glad he does not have to lie to her.

 

“Yes!” She does what she calls an arm pump.  This moment meant much to her.  MJ’s whole body shines with her happiness.  To her this has been a triumph.  A success.  Women are truly strange creatures.

 

Taking the empty cup from him, she all but shoves a plate into his hands, “Here, I got you a cookie too.”  In the middle of the plate, is a small, round, plain, cookie.  Picking it up he can smell cinnamon.  Taking a bite, he lets it sit on his tongue as he is sharply reminded of how good a cook she is.  “They’re called snickerdoodles,” She’s back to being jittery in front of him.  “Normally they’re made in a different country to mine, but I love making them.”

 

“You love the smell of cinnamon,” Solas tells her, easily reasoning out her passion for making them.

 

“Yeah, one of the best smells in the world,” MJ is watching him with a hopeful expression.

 

“Your snickerdoodle was wonderful,” He tells her.  “I hope you will make these for me again.  Soon.”

 

Bashful at his praise, she also inflates in pride.  This is a side to her he so rarely saw.  She did this for everyone else, but no one did this for her.  Who would dare tell the Herald of Andraste she was worthy of such simple praise?  Praise, which was worth more to her, than all the gold in her treasury.

 

“Okay,” MJ is staring everywhere but at him.  “You go rest on the bed.  I got my best pillows out for you.  And I’ll put these away.”  She scurries from the room as if her life depends upon it.

 

Perhaps he did something wrong?

 

“ ** _No_** ,” Wisdom’s voice comes from the corner of the room.  It is currently in the shape of a small black cat; its eyes are the everchanging green of the Fade.  “ ** _Your praise carries a great deal of meaning for MJ_**.”

 

Ah, as a woman she will be overwhelmed with emotion.  And she will be unused to being allowed to show it so openly.  It will take time for her to learn he is a safe person to show all her emotions to.  And he will have to learn to accept her for her emotions.

 

Turning his attention to the bed, he is momentarily confused by the strange shaped pillow.  Wisdom tells him, “ ** _For her it is a ‘V shaped pillow’, they are designed for those who need support sitting up in bed_**.”  Ah, it makes sense to him now.

 

Settling in, he pulls the softest blanket over his body.  It is of no material he has ever felt before, warm, yet light weight.  He plumps the pillows and leans back waiting for her.

 

**oOo**

 

Putting the plate away, I almost do a victory dance.  Solas liked the cocoa.  He liked my cookie recipe.  And now he’s going to rest on the bed, while we listen to a book.  I’m not totally shit at this caring thing.

 

Hurrying to my bedroom, I find Solas snuggled down in the best orthopaedic pillow I could get my hands on, with the softest blanket I could find wrapped around him.  Rounding the bed, I climb on it next to him.  In moments I’m propped up too.  Similar to the way we were in the Chantry, my head on his chest, my arm across his stomach, with his arm holding me close to him.

 

Over my speakers the opening of ‘Guards Guards’, by Terry Prachett starts up.  Time to let myself relax too.  My head has a fuck load of things to try and come to terms with.

 

And when we wake up, when Solas is rested, we’re going to have a long talk.  Because we need a plan.  This Inquisition is nothing like the game portrayed it as.  I’ve got no points of reference to help Solas steer this thing.

 

On his stomach, his other hand covers mine, lacing our fingers together.

 

Together.

 

We’ll only get through this together.

 

Concentrating on the story, I let it suck me in, we can worry about everything in the morning.

 

**oOo**

 

She is curled against him.  Her scent fills his senses making his head spin.  Her warmth sinks into him.  For her sake he listens to the man tell a story.

 

And finds his attention caught by the intricate threads woven by a master storyteller.  All the clues were already there.  All the characters were fascinating stereotypes, with twists, and turns, to gently educate the listeners.

 

Master Tethras had once told him humans wrote to figure out the world.  This was a prime example of such a work.  He finds it constantly pokes him and forces him to think about preconceived ideas.  And it is all wrapped up in a well thought out, well paced, and genuinely funny piece of literature.

 

Once more his Heart proves her brilliance in sharing this masterpiece with him.  Last time he was such a fool.  How many times did she try and share with him?  And every time he refused her.  It is a wonder she found anything in him worth caring for, or to fall in love with, when his treatment of her was so terrible.

 

Around them, across the Veil, he can hear the sounds of the camp waking up.  Wisdom clearly had a hand shaping this part of the Fade for them. Letting them listen to the book uninterrupted.  Timing the ending to coincide with the world beyond the Veil.

 

Stirring next to him his Heart asks, “Well?  Did you like it?”  Again, she is anxious to share with him.  And again, he will be the one to reach out and accept all she wishes to share.

 

“I did my love,” He is honest with her and tells her he would enjoy listening to more of this writer’s work.  Curled up in the Fade with her?  For hours on end?  He would be a fool to pass up such an opportunity.  And he is learning to be less of a fool.

 

“Good,” Her fingers play with his, unconsciously telling him of a preoccupation.  “So.  Do you feel rested?  Ready to take on a new day?”  This is important to her.

 

“I am,” He reassures her.  “And now morning is here.”

 

“It is?”  Her head lifts off his chest completely.  He misses her already.  “Good.  We need to talk.”

 

Her ominous words slam into him, even as she vanishes from the Fade, to full consciousness on the other side of the Veil.  Hurriedly he opens his own eyes to discover what he has done wrong.

 

**oOo**

 

Pain in my shoulder lets me know I’m wide awake.  Warmth is wrapped all around me.  Familiar grey skin is right in front of my eyes, as are hanging strands of dark grey fur.  Solas is being a bear again.  I’m curled in between his front paws, and resting against his chest, tucked away and safe.

 

For a moment, I take a second to wonder if that was why he was such a sloth, but then push it away.  He’d needed a nap in the Chantry too.  No, the bear shape isn’t the problem.  Me not noticing him flagging was the problem.

 

His body moves as he wakes up.  I can’t resist reaching up with my left hand and scratching his chin.  “Good morning Sunshine,” I say it softly and hope bear ears are good enough to hear me.  “I know you slept well.”

 

One moment I’m cradled by a bear, the next, I’m cradled by elven arms.  Solas’ hooks his chin over my left shoulder, “Good morning my Heart.  Yes, I did sleep very well, as did you.  How is your shoulder today?”

 

“Ow,” Is my honest answer.  “Next time some idiot points an arrow at me, I’m going full barrier.  Fuck getting shot again.”  I press my cheek against his.

 

“Next time will not happen,” He presses back, this is nice.  “Because I will kill them first.”  And the mood is slightly ruined.

 

“What did happen to Isla?” I wasn’t really paying attention at the time.  Too busy falling into the Fade and being frightened by a tiny kitten.

 

His answer surprises me, “Varric shot her, killing her.  And then she was hit by one of the giant hailstones you created.”  Wow, overkill much?  Also, Varric did that?  For me?  And I should be horrified, but maybe I needed to be shot in the fucking shoulder, to really understand; this isn’t the peaceful part of Earth I’m used to. This is the equivalent of a war zone, with no peacekeeping troops to protect any of the civilians, or innocents.

 

Speaking of innocents.

 

Across the tunnel, at a small fire, the couple with the little elven child are stirring.  Their little girl is hugged and fussed by both parents, before they hand her some food.  The same food Seggrit gave all of us.  She’s not the only child here, there are a few others.

 

In the game there weren’t any children that I remember.

 

“Solas?” I managed to process some stuff last night.  Kids weren’t part of it.

 

“Hmm?”  He’s back to being a cuddler.  With the side benefit of supporting my right shoulder for me.  Best carer ever.

 

“We really need to talk about what we’re going to do next,” My eyes are glued to the little girl.  Seriously she’s so fucking cute.  Those ears of hers are almost a superpower of adorkableness.  “We can’t stay here.  We’ve lost Haven as a home base.  And we have non-combatants to care for.  We need shelter, food, clothing.”  I take a deep breath, shit, I’m really going to be someone these people look to for leadership.  I’ve spent my life not being able to take care of myself, how the fuck am I supposed to take care of them?  Or Solas?

 

Some therapy mouse I turned out to be.

 

“All good points,” Solas’ voice breaks me out of the spiral I’m rapidly falling into.  “Thankfully, we have you to close any rifts we come across, this will allow us to stabilise portions of Thedas.  Last time we travelled together to the Crossroads, we slipped past all manner of dangers.  This time, we travel with some very well-trained combatants.  We will not have to slip past anything.  We will deal with each danger as we come face to face with it.”  He has a point.  I’ve seen Kaaras, Herah, and Varric fight.  Now we have more people who can fight, Adan who can heal, Seggrit who can bargain.

 

“In this part of Ferelden there are a number of ruins, or partial ruins, all defensible sanctuaries for our more vulnerable members,” I remember some of them in the Hinterlands.  “I believe some of them can easily be converted into smaller bases, giving us platforms to strike out from, to give us control of this area.”  His voice is soft, slow, and thoughtful.

 

Thank fuck I’ve got him on my side.

 

“As to food,” He continues being awesome.  “On the path to Haven, many rifts opened on, or near, wagons bearing food for the Inquisition’s forces at Haven.  Closing those rifts will allow us to feed the many mouths we have with us.  Buying us more time to consolidate our influence, and power, in this region.”

 

Arms squeeze me gently, “You often argued with Cassandra.  You tried to give many of the Inquisition’s resources away to the refugees.  She countered by blocking you,” Why?  Why would she do that?  “Stating the Inquisition needed the food more.  You often went behind her back to feed the powerless, the homeless, the lost.  Stories of your kindness spread far and wide.  The Inquisition gained much from your heartfelt acts of mercy.”

 

He pauses, as I try and digest this latest nugget of information.  Fuck the Inquisition if it won’t step up and do the right thing.  “You always expressed the wish for the Inquisition to be a shining beacon.  I would help you achieve this.”

 

His hand covers my left one, lacing our fingers, “Together MJ, we will prove to them all, your vision is the wisest one.”

 

I don’t know about wisest, but, “Together?”  Turning my head, I stare into his eyes.

 

“Together,” He confirms, and something settles inside me.  He’s done this kind of thing before, he has the skills, the knowledge.  I’m not sure what I’ll bring to the table, but I’ll learn, and I’ll do my best to help him, and everyone else who needs us in Thedas.

 

We have a short-term set of ideas for the immediate future.  We have time to plan long term.  And people like Cassandra, can kiss my arse, if they think I’m going to let other people starve.

 

**oOo**

 

Finishing her rations, Ellana stares at the shem and the flat ear.

 

Her brother dislikes the thought of any of the People, even a flat ear, willing laying with a shem.

 

She finds his disgust amusing.  He is a fool.  The flat ear is a man.  And any man will lay with any woman he can get his hands on, willing or not.  For some time, she thought all men were animals.  Yet animals are simple creatures.  Men are ravening, vile, crude, monsters.  More akin to Darkspawn.  Yes, that’s better.  All men are Darkspawn despoiling all they touch.

 

This flat ear will prove to be the same as all the others.

 

The moment his ‘wife’ isn’t watching, he will use his power to rut with any woman he can.  And his ‘wife’ will have the blame cast at her feet, for failing to provide for her man.  All the women he rutted with will be blamed for his straying.  It’s never the man’s fault, it’s always the fault of the woman, or the girl.

 

As her brother disapproves so highly of this coupling, Ellana decides to join this mess called ‘Inquisition’.  Anything to poke and prod at him.  Anything to prove to him how little his option means to her.


	33. Lessons in Thedas

Thedas is nothing like I thought it would be.  All those games and fanfictions lied to me.  I’ve got so much to learn.

 

Lesson One:  Camps take time to set up and take down.

 

Even though Solas created teams to do stuff, it all takes time.  Everyone had to eat breakfast.  Pee.  Take tents down.  Put fires out.  And a million other things.  In TV programs, and in games, camps just pop up and pack down in seconds.

 

It took longer than I thought it would to get ready to set out.

 

Lesson Two:  Walking anywhere takes forever and is boring as fuck.

 

After I put my foot down Solas agreed to let me walk.  He wanted to carry me again.  I have feet and legs which work, because of him, and I want to use them.  Threading my arm through his, we set out.  I might not be fast, but this feels awesome, I’m walking under my own steam.

 

This is such a novelty.  I’d forgotten how it felt to walk.  To feel the ground under my feet. To have this simple freedom.

 

I revel in it.

 

Leaving the tunnel leading to Haven behind us, we amble down a very slightly inclined path, surrounded by trees, which don’t sway as there’s no breeze.  And aren’t filled with bird song.  Because we’re in winter most sensible creatures in this area are hibernating.

 

All I can hear is the crunch of feet on the path.  Occasional murmurs of voices.  And nothing else.

 

I thought as an introvert I’d enjoy the countryside.  So far, I’m not impressed.  There’s nothing to look at.  Snow is blanketing everything.  Trees are in the way of any scenic viewpoints.

 

And it’s too quiet.

 

Urgh.

 

I’m used to listening to music.  On my phone, on my PC, on the TV, or on the radio.  This silence is going to bore me to tears.

 

When I nudge Solas, to ask how far we’ve come, his answer is depressing.  My doctors was about a mile away from me.  The hospital was five miles away.  By car I could get to either in minutes.  We’ve not even covered a mile yet.  It’s going to take us forever to get anywhere.  And I’m going to die of boredom long before we get there.

 

Lesson Three:  Varric is a very whiney little shit.

 

In the games Varric was one of my favourite companions.  I was heartbroken I couldn’t romance him.  He was funny.  So loyal he stood up to Cassandra for Hawke.  Wiser than he let on.  And his voice acting made him sound warm.  I fully admit I had a bit of a crush on him.

 

Trespasser touched on him being a complaining, whiney, irritating bastard who could get on your last nerve and then really piss you off.  OMG.  He’s worse.  If I had a spare pair of footwraps I’d be stuffing them in his mouth.

 

It’s too cold.  But he won’t close his coat.

 

The ground is too hard.

 

The snow is too bright.

 

His pack is too heavy.

 

The trees are too wooden.

 

There are too many stones on the path.

 

Why aren’t we there yet?

 

Why aren’t there more taverns?

 

He goes on and on, until I start wishing for the mind-numbing silence again.  Solas doesn’t kill him, he engages him in conversation.  Somehow, he steers Varric into telling stories.  Which pulls in Kaaras.  Who in turn pulls in Herah.  Malika then has to add her own story, and Edric keeps interrupting her, adding more and more details, to some heist thing I don’t understand.

 

I leave them to it.  I’m just glad the silence is broken by something other than Varric’s whining.  With a nice background chatter going on I can finally zone out a little.

 

Lesson Four:  Love could teach magic to an amoeba.

 

As I’m not joining in with the others, Love gives me some more lessons on magic.  Solas apparently still has me under a magic using ban, so it keeps our lessons purely theoretical.  Not that I mind too much.  It’s giving me some really practical healing lessons.  Mostly to do with the injured people in Adan’s care.

 

Love feels tomorrow is early enough for me to use simple magic, and not blow the mana exhaustion cover created for me by Solas.

 

We both think my first move should be magical antibiotics.  While the wound care instructions, Solas gave to Adan, have meant the wounds aren’t festering, Love would prefer to give the patients a helping hand.  It also starts to school me in other basic life supporting healing techniques, like blood creation, blood cleaning, lung clearing, wound clearing, and lots of clearing of every part of a patient’s body.

 

Going back over bone healing, Love expands into how muscles are rebuilt, and nerves reattached, or rebuilt.  Various blood vessels will need relinking, or rebuilding from scratch.  And organs are so different from each other, no two techniques are the same.  I’m certain I won’t remember any of this in the morning.  Love promises to help me.

 

Lesson Five: People in Thedas think shooting Bambi’s mother is a good thing.

 

Distracted by Love’s lesson, I blink when Kaaras says, “How did you manage to find and kill a deer?  We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

 

Deer?

 

What deer?

 

Zoning back in, I can see people gathering towards one of the tattooed elves.  She’s standing there proudly, “I used to be one of the best hunters in my Clan.  Even in lean times I could find us some food.”

 

“Impressive,” Varric’s voice floats out of the knot of people.  “An arrow through the eye?  Hard to pull off.  You must be a good shot.”

 

“I am,” Well she’s certainly confident.

 

“Ellana,” The other tattooed elf is surprisingly grumpy.

 

“Brother?” Her face twists up, turning her already disturbing red facial tattoo, into a mocking mask.

 

Solas and I drift closer to all the excitement.  Craning my neck, I can see there’s something brown on the ground.  Beside me Solas says, “Varric is correct.  Your shot was impressive.  Few hunters could have accomplished such a feat.”

 

What are they talking about?

 

Someone in front of me moves and I get my first clear view.  When they said deer, they meant Bambi’s mother.  She’s laying on the ground, with an arrow sticking out of her eye.  She’s also very clearly dead.  Making Bambi an orphan; again.

 

My stomach kicks in protest of her senseless murder.  My shoulder twinges in sympathy.

 

“Ma serannas,” The elf, I think is called Ellana, nods to Solas.  “High praise from the Herald’s Champion.”

 

Ellana.

 

Ellana?

 

Why is that name so familiar?

 

Urgh, I so need to dig up some information on this fucking world.  I can’t remember anything.  Not that we’re following the game’s script, but still, some background knowledge would be nice.

 

“Ellana!” Her brother, the guy who helped Adan take the arrow out of my shoulder, is full on glaring at her now.

 

Lesson Six: Dalish elf mages are really racist.

 

“Mahanon?” Ellana’s reply has the hairs on the back of neck standing up.  There’s something wrong here.

 

He doesn’t seem to notice, “Why are you pandering to the shem and her pet flat ear?”

 

What?

 

I know those terms.  I just need to remember what they mean.  Valour turns up to tell me, “ ** _Shem is the shortened elvhen word for quickling, it is a slang term for human.  Flat ear is the racial slur the Dalish use for city elves_**.”  The fuck?  This guy helped pull an arrow out of my shoulder, but it turns out he’s racist?  “ ** _Most Dalish share his views_**.”

 

Nope.

 

Just nope.

 

Nudging Solas, I hastily whisper to him, his eyes are narrowed, he’s pissed off too.  Looking over at Mahanon, Solas says, “My wife says, if you ever use that slur again, you will leave the Inquisition, immediately.  She will not allow anyone to speak with such disrespect to any elf.”

 

Silence returns for a few moments, as I glare daggers at the piece of shit racist arsehole, before Varric asks, “What about the word he used for Mouse?”

 

Huh?

 

Oh right, shem. I shrug with my left shoulder.  It doesn’t bother me, but Varric has a point.  If people aren’t allowed to be racist to anyone, then technically shem does count.  Murmuring to Solas I ask him, “Varric’s right, but the word doesn’t bother me, as it doesn’t register as an insult to me.  What should we do?”

 

Grey eyes with a hint of blue stare into mine, “You truly do not see the word as an insult?”

 

“No.”  I try and explain, “I’ve not grown up in Thedas.  It’s just a word to me.  It’s not been used again me as a weapon, yet, so it has no power over me.”

 

Nodding, he gets his thoughtful expression, before turning back, “The word has no power over my wife.  Your insult is baseless.  But should you ever use it again in my hearing, I will step forward as her Champion, and you will face me.”

 

People start muttering around us.  As Ellana crosses her arms and adds, “The Herald’s Champion is a mighty warrior.  Facing him would mean certain death.”  I don’t think she likes her brother.  I can totally relate, but probably for different reasons.

 

Screwing his own face up, Mahanon goes back to glaring at her, before turning to us, “My apologies.  I will watch my words in the future.”  His face smooths out, a mask of fake calm, and lyrical elven falls from his lips.  Solas puffs up next to me.  Love has to translate it for me.  It turns out to be an insult, based on some very improbable sexual practices my father engaged in, with an animal I’ve never even heard of.

 

It’s probably the nicest thing anyone, who really knew my sperm donor, has ever said about him.  A snort giggle bursts out of me.  This total twat is standing there trying to insult me, and all he’s doing, is making me laugh instead.  I have to hang onto Solas, my shoulders are shaking so hard, as I dissolve into silent giggles.

 

Lesson Seven: Humour doesn’t always translate across worlds.

 

Getting myself under control, I find everyone’s staring at me, like I’ve lost my mind.  Kaaras rubs a hand over his face, “I’m going to guess, what he said, wasn’t supposed to be funny?”

 

“No.  It was not,” Solas growls the words.  He’s not the only elf currently giving the evil eye to Mahanon.

 

With only one arm in operation, and that’s the one I’m using to stabilise myself with on Solas, I have to elbow him, without falling on my face, to get his attention.  If people are going to use stupid insults, I’ve got a much better one.  It takes me three attempts to hiss the words to him, as I keep sniggering, forcing me to start again.

 

“Vhenan!”  Is all I get for my troubles.  Pulled into a hug, Solas does pass my words on, “My wife matches the seriousness of your insult with, ‘Your mother was a hamster, and your father smells of elderberries’.”

 

I absolutely lose it.  If I could laugh out loud, I’m sure they’d hear me back in Haven, instead I don’t make a noise.  I love Monty Python’s messed up humour.  Hearing Solas say such a classic line from one of their films, is amazing.  And hilarious.  I don’t even care when Kaaras says, “I don’t get it.”

 

Varric tells him, “I think that was the point Pup.”

 

There are actual tears running down my face, as Solas swings me up, princess style into his arms, and strides off with me.  Over his shoulder he calls out, “Ellana, our thanks for your skill in hunting, and your kind generosity in sharing.  If someone could please help her?”  I’m too busy remembering how to breathe, to work out what he means.

 

Lesson Eight:  Solas is a hug monster.

 

Now he’s got me up in his arms he’s reluctant to let me down.  “Beloved, I understand your need to retake your independence,” He sneaks a kiss onto my forehead.  “Yet you should consider one word first.”

 

“Really?”  I have no idea what he’s talking about.

 

“Yes,” Pausing, he gives me an honest to god smirk.  His eyes light up.  And then he says, “Hamster.”

 

Any semblance of seriousness I thought I had, vanishes.  I crack up in his arms. If I’d been standing, I’m sure I’d have collapsed by now.  Alternating between Hamster, and Elderberry, he keeps me in fits of laughter.

 

When I do manage to get over it, he changes the word, “Shrubbery.”  Direct referencing from the same film pushes me back over the edge.

 

My ribs ache from such unusual activity.  When was the last time I laughed so much? I have to gasp out, “Stop.  Please.  Mercy.”

 

“As you wish,” His smirk flickers back onto his face, morphing into a smile.  It suits him.

 

Lesson Nine:  Scouts are good at spotting rifts.

 

Two of the bow wielding people run up the pathway towards us.

 

Edric scoots around us to intercept them.  Then he hurries back to us, “Solas, Lady Herald.  The scouts report an active rift with demons, half a mile ahead.”

 

Finally, Solas puts me down.  Though he takes a moment to press his forehead to mine.  I guess the fun part of this road trip is over.  Time to do our job and fix these tears in the Veil.

 

Of course, it’ll take us the rest of the fucking day to reach the bloody rift at the speed I move.

 

Lesson Ten:  The people I’m with are seriously fit.

 

Rifts are too serious to wait for me to make my way to them.  It’s decided Solas should change shape into a Hart, so he can carry me.  Unlike the journey through Haven, we need to move faster than saddleless side saddle will safely allow.  I’ll have to sit on him normally, one leg on each side.

 

“I will not let you fall,” Solas is back to being a hug monster.  He’s currently holding me against him, his cheek against mine.  “I am not a horse.  You are perfectly safe on my back.  Please, Vhenan, trust me.”

 

And we’re out of time.

 

Everyone else is ready.  Weapons checked.  Scout reports have been listened to.  And it’s now or never.  “Solas,” Kaaras calls out.  He’s going to be in charge of our three tanks, and that number includes him.  There are only two other warrior types with us.

 

Letting me go, Solas steps back, his body shifting into the blinding white Hart with the ghost grey stripes.  His wide antlers arc out and up.  When he lays down in the road, he’s still too tall for me to clamber onto his back.  Herah has to help me.  I’m fairly certain, I’ve just completed the clumsiest mounting of a Hart, in the history of ever.

 

In Haven he added magical glue to hold me onto his back.  He does exactly the same thing now.  I can feel the ‘glue’ keeping me in place as he gets to his feet.  Glancing over his shoulder at me, he says, “I will start walking now.  You will not fall.”

 

As a child, surrounded by outgoing, fearless, extroverts, I got pushed into learning to ride.  My sperm donor was a doctor, he wanted in with all the other rich people, and horse riding was an obvious way in through his girl children.  I hated it.  I lasted two lessons.  My horse, really a small pony, spooked, bolted across the field, the small country lane nearby, jumped a ditch, and I ended up thrown to the ground.  It felt like it lasted forever.  I’ve never been back on a horse since.  They terrify the shit out of me.  I know they’re really sweet, kind, loving beings, but no, fuck no.  Never again.

 

Solas as a Hart is a lot bigger than a horse.

 

When he steps forward, I have to remember to breathe.  I have to remember the ride through Haven.  He kept his promise then.  I didn’t fall.  He’ll keep his promise now.  He won’t let me fall.

 

Thankfully this gait he’s using isn’t how I remember the pony moving.  It’s not the prancing he did either.  It feels very different.  I still haunch and bury my fingers into his short coat.

 

Speeding up his walk, means everyone else has to start jogging, except for Kaaras and Herah, they just lengthen their stride.  “Vhenan, I will start trotting slowly now.”  My legs automatically clamp onto his sides.  As he changes gear, our group really start moving along.  This is scary, and I’m glad it’s Solas I’m on.  He won’t bolt.  He won’t let me fall.

 

“ ** _Breathe_** ” Love coaches me through not losing my shit.  “ ** _Feel how differently Solas moves.  He is using a Hart’s version of a trot.  It is nothing like a horse’s.  Let your legs hang down further_**.”  I listen to Love, and bit by bit, how I sit on Solas changes, becoming less bouncy, smoother.  My fingers unclench.  My shoulders straighten out.  With practice I might be able to get used to this.  As long as it’s Solas’ back I’m on.

 

We’re not going that fast.  Trees aren’t whizzing past like they would if I was in a car.  But I can certainly see why horses were so necessary before trains, and cars, were available.  At this speed even Kaaras and Herah are jogging.  The dwarves in our group are forced to run.

 

Ahead of us, an elf with a bow, steps out from the trees, he flags us down.  Slowing to a walk, Solas carries me over to the man.  Herah reaches up, grabs me, and gently pulls me off Solas.  Leaving him free to change back, and start organising everyone for the upcoming battle.

 

I do notice no one, not even the dwarves, are breathing heavily.  This run, in fully armour, was like a small, easy, escorted walk in the park for them.  They’re warmed up and ready to fight demons.

 

Lesson Eleven: I have no functioning gaydar.

 

Once she’s pulled me off Solas, Herah doesn’t put me down.  She just stands there, like she hasn’t just jogged half a mile, and as if I don’t weigh anything.

 

When we all set out for the rift, which is unhandily situated in the woods, she keeps holding me, and carries me princess style.  Wiggling in her arms, I do try and assert my independence, “I can walk.”

 

“Not fast enough,” She shoots me down.  “And the ground is uneven.  You’re still injured, if you stumble, or trip, you’ll jar your shoulder.  You really don’t want to do that.”

 

Huffing a sigh, I try and think up more reasons I should be put down.  She blindsides me with, “Besides.  Solas has had you all to himself.  Don’t I get to carry a pretty little thing like you around too?”

 

What?

 

If she were male, I’d say that sounded suspiciously like a flirtatious line.  Confused, I stare at her.  Why would she say something like that to me?  I’m a woman, she’s a woman.  A heavy sigh comes from her, “You really don’t notice anyone but Solas do you?”

 

Huh?  Shaking my head to shake sense into it, I do manage to say, “Um?”

 

“ ** _Herah is not seriously interested in you_** ,” Love drops even more confusion on me.  “ ** _She wished to see what you would do.  She enjoys causing gentle mischief_**.”  Wait, she likes women?  “ ** _Yes_**.”

 

I did not see that coming.

 

Lesson Twelve:  Battlegrounds are chaotic.

 

One second, I’m staring at Herah in shock, the next we’re on top of the stupid rift, and melee erupts everywhere.

 

Now she puts me down, gently, helping me get my balance, “Stay behind me.  When they’ve cleared the demons, you should be able to close the rift from here.”

 

Fighting in a forest is mayhem.

 

People are yelling.

 

Demons are making the scary sounds they make.  I’d rather listen to nails on a chalk board.

 

I can’t really see anything.

 

Kaaras’ battle cries let me know the general direction he’s in.  Bianca’s familiar clicks tell me where Varric is.  Explosions, and a smooth voice, give me glimpses of Solas’ rapidly moving position.

 

Suddenly it goes quiet.  “Vhenan!  Now!”  Solas appears from nowhere to step behind me and steady me.  Lifting my left hand, I connect to a rift I can barely see.  This one doesn’t give me any trouble at all.  As we’re so far from the Breach it closes without a whimper.  “My love,” Solas breathes right into my ear.  “You were perfect.”  And he’s back to being a hug monster.

 

Lesson Thirteen:  Cleaning up after a rift is a messy job.

 

Solas gets called away.  They have to do search sweeps to make sure there are no demons who escaped.  Leaving me with Herah.  She points back the way we came, “Come on.  We’ll wait on the road for everyone else.”

 

This time I’m allowed to walk.  She was right earlier, the ground is so uneven, I have to hang onto her, or I’ll fall.  And I go so damn slowly, picking my feet up, and placing them down carefully.  I never knew tree roots were so difficult.  It’s like they’re doing it on purpose.

 

By the time we make it back to the road, Malika’s joined us, so I have two bodyguards to babysit me as we wait on the side of the road.  Malika goes so far as to put the ground sheet of her tent down, so we can sit as we wait.

 

Lesson Fourteen:  A deer heart is considered an excellent gift.

 

While we’re waiting, the non-combatants catch us up.  Those assigned to various tasks start doing them.  Setting up camp right here in the road.  Watching them gives me something to do.

 

Occasionally, one of the demon hunting crew swings by to give us an update.  Thankfully there don’t seem to be many demons who escaped.  But they have come across the remains of a previous merchant’s caravan.  There were no survivors, but there is food, so Seggit, and his assistants, have to go and work out what we can salvage.

 

Word of the potential food spreads quickly through the camp.  People perk up.  No one was interested in eating rations again.  And then Ellana appears with bits of Bambi’s mother.  Which are greeted with enthusiasm.  Then they start cooking them.

 

Stomach kicking at me, I’m glad I’m not too close to the fire.

 

“You okay?  You’ve gone a funny colour,” Herah’s watching me.  Rubbing my belly, I grimace.  “You need me to get Solas?”

 

“No,” I tell her.  “It’s nothing.  My stomach’s just a bit upset.”

 

“Huh, okay,” She eyes me up and down.  “You going to be okay?  Do you need anything?”

 

Shaking my head, “I’m fine.  Thank you.  Maybe some water?”

 

Malika takes off like her life depends on it.  In less than a minute, she’s back with a full water skin.  Holding it out to me, she kneels saying, “Here.”

 

I have no idea what to do with it.  Love talks me through how to open the top, how to hold the stupid thing, and how to tip it back, all one handed, to get a mouthful of water.  Keeping the water in my mouth, I take small swallows, until it’s all gone.  “Thank you,” I tell Malika.  It did help, my stomach isn’t kicking at me anymore.

 

They let me sit there quietly.  I take some more mouthfuls of water, spaced apart, so I don’t make my stomach worse.

 

Seggrit reappears, pulling a handcart he didn’t have when he left.  He gets swarmed.  And the cart gets emptied.  Things from the cart soon join Bambi’s mother at the campfires.  Happy voices drift over.  I’m glad they’re enjoying themselves.

 

“ ** _There is porridge in the new provisions_** ,” Love gives me some good news.  “ ** _Solas would be happy to make you some_**.”  So long as I don’t have to eat red meat.  “ ** _He knows you struggle with it_**.”  And my stomach unknots itself.

 

Which is when Ellana approaches us, carrying a plate.  There’s steam coming off the plate.  “Lady Herald,” She calls out to me.  “My Lady, in my former Clan, we had a tradition.  I have asked the other elves here, and they have a similar tradition of such gift giving,” She holds the plate out towards me.  There’s a brown lump there.  “I offer you the heart of the deer I killed.”

 

WTF?

 

My stomach lets me know, in no uncertain terms, what it thinks of her gift.  I get my left hand across my mouth in time.  I swallow the tiny bit of acidic vomit back down.

 

“Fuck,” Herah’s there instantly.  “Easy Eevee.  I got you,” Her arms support me as I fight my urge to projectile all over Ellana.  “Malika. Get Solas. now!”

 

“I’ll help you,” Ellana’s voice says.

 

Lesson Fifteen:  Herah is a surprisingly good carer.

 

Using her bigger size, muscles, and reach, Herah gets me up on my knees, on the edge of groundsheet, facing the forest.  Her voice is gentle as she coaches me through breathing.

 

Her body gives out a huge amount of heat.  Her arms are wrapped around me, but not trapping me.  I relax back into her, letting her take my weight.  “Good, that’s good Eevee.”  My eyes start to close.

 

“ ** _I do not like Ellana_** ,” Joy’s voice has me snapping back awake.  “ ** _Her games are mean.  They hurt everyone, even her.  Your games are better.  Even the losers win_**.”  Oh shit.  Why’s it back?  Why is it talking to me?  “ ** _Wisdom has told me I must share you.  I cannot keep you.  You are going to spread Joy to so many people.  I will have lots of people to play with_**.”

 

Oh god.

 

“ ** _Joy is correct_** ,” Love settles around me.  “ ** _Ellana seeks to sow discord.  Do not trust her_**.”

 

“Vhenan!”  A white wolf is hurtling down the road towards me.

 

Lesson Sixteen:  Solas is the best carer ever.

 

Solas quickly takes control.  And I’m soon resting in his arms.  Placing his hand on my stomach calms it down, he cheats outrageously with magic to do it, but I don’t care.

 

Eyes closed, tucked up against him, safe.  I let him smooth everything else over too.  He gets me out of eating the heart.  Or anything else tonight.  All I have to do is sip water.  I’m not hungry anyway, not even for porridge.  Not anymore.

 

Since nearly all the jobs are done for the day.  He carries me with him to the last one.

 

Lesson Seventeen:  Thedas has weird funerals.

 

We don’t have any horses to pull wagons, so they’ve ransacked the ones the merchants were using.  And then used the wagons themselves as funeral pyres.  They’re made of wood.  They’re surplus to requirements.  It’s a practical idea.

 

Plus, this way, there’re less bodies hanging around waiting for demons to possess them.  No need to start an undead plague like Crestwood did.  And less chance for an actual plague to fester and spread through Thedas.

 

When we reach them, the wagons are burning merrily.  They add light to a rapidly darkening area.  Over the mountains, the sun is setting, ushering in night-time.  Solas leaves me off to one side, with Herah, and his staff.  He blows on the crystal at the tip, making it glow brightly, and then I have a combination of a stick to lean on and a light.

 

There are various people hanging around watching the wagons.  Apparently, some of them are there to make sure the fire doesn’t spread.  No sense in setting fire to the rest of Thedas.

 

I’ve no idea why the others are there.  More people drift in, milling around, not speaking, never really stopping.  They seem agitated.  Faith walks up to me, “ ** _They do not know the words to speak for the dead_**.”  I remember my poor cousin.  Suicide is such a taboo thing.  No one knew what to say at his funeral either.  My bitch aunt refused to believe what my sperm donor, her brother, did to her son.  So, she didn’t get him the help he so desperately needed.  “ ** _Will you speak the words for them?_** ”

 

Me?

 

I can barely talk to one person, how am I supposed to do any form of public speaking?  “ ** _They need not hear the words_** ,” Faith chastises me.  “ ** _They only need to know the words are being spoken_**.”  Huh?  “ ** _You did the same at the ruins of Temple of Sacred Ashes.  Only those closest to you could hear you.  Yet all understood the respect you gave the dead_**.”  And that was helpful to people?  I know it helped me.  “ ** _Yes, it gave more comfort than you realise_**.”

 

Okay.  I can do that.  If Faith or Love can tell me the words to say.  Faith readily agrees.  And I step forward, “Hey, Eevee.  You okay?”  Herah puts an arm around me, steadying me.

 

“Yes, but I need to be a bit closer to the pyre.  Can you help me get there?” She was so good earlier, I hope she can help me now.

 

“Sure,” She’s frowning.  “Are you cold?  Do you need anything?  Anything at all?”  Supporting my faltering steps, she does get me closer to the pyre.  Fuck it, I need to get used to this new body.

 

“I’m fine.  Really,” I tell her and we’re finally close enough to the pyre.  My mind goes absolutely blank.  I have no idea how you start a funeral off here in Thedas.  Last time I was perched on Solas and the words were more for me.

 

Wisdom curls near me, “ ** _Perhaps a song?_** ”  Music swells in my head.  It breaks over the noise of the fires.  Drowns out the voices around me.  God, I miss music so much.  My eyes close, allowing me to concentrate on the melody, and when words scroll across my inner eye, I sing them.  ‘Into The West’ from Lord of the Rings always makes me cry.  Annie Lennox’s voice is haunting.  And the moment you realise Frodo is leaving is heart-breaking.

 

As the last note of the song fades away, I shake myself into the now, to find my face is wet.  Wiping at my tears, I notice people aren’t milling around anymore, they’ve gathered nearby.  They’re also staring at me.

 

“ ** _Please_** ,” Faith presses close.  “ ** _Even if the words are soundless_**.”  Soundless is practically a speciality of mine.  “ ** _They need this_**.”  Fine.  Guilt tripped into this, I go to silently mouth the words it autocues for me, and find it speaking the words with me.  Love joins in.  As does Valour.  Wisdom.  Even a very solemn sounding Joy.  Behind them a host of Spirits lift their voices too.  With their help, I do manage to say the words out loud, well, loud for me.  I doubt anyone but Herah could hear the words.  At the end, I can sense the Spirits gathered all around, they press against the Veil, lending their strength to everyone here.  And they will remember this moment, adding it to the vast repertoire of the Fade.

 

Lesson Eighteen:  Quoting Gandalf confuses people.

 

Slowly the Spirits drift away, as a sigh runs through the crowd, their agitation seems to have fled.  There’s an air of calmness now.

 

“Some of those on the wagons were elves,” And Mahanon appears like a bad smell.  “Your people burnt them along with the humans.”  He almost spits the word ‘human’.  I suppose it is a step up from his last set of words.  At least he said 'elves' nicely.

 

I have no idea what he wants me to say, and try to convey the ‘So What?’ to him, with a one shoulder shrug and my face.  I thought people wanted funeral rites for the dead?

 

Varric worms his way through the crowd to stand in front of me.  Acting like a wall between me and Mahanon.  “Back off elf,” Bianca’s in his hands.  “Mouse doesn’t care what race you are.  She gave the elves on those wagons full rites.  Most humans can’t buy that from the Chantry.”  They can’t?

 

“ ** _No_** ,” Valour leans up against me.  “ ** _The less coin paid to them.  The less rites given.  Many of the poor have no words spoken for them.  They are simply thrown on mass pyres, if the Chantry can be bothered with them at all_**.”  Fuck, that’s not right.  “ ** _No, it is not_**.”  I’m starting to get angry again.

 

Mahanon points to the burning pyres, “And you think these humans, ones with elven servants, deserve any rites?  In the short time I have been away from my Clan, I have seen how humans treat elves.  I was there as their bodies were gathered.  I saw the bruises on the bodies of the elves.”  Oh.  Oh fuck.  Those poor bastards.  First, they grew up being told they’re nothing, to the point they believed it.  Then they were abused, physically, mentally, and for some of them, sexually.  Dragged out here, they were then killed by demons.  All alone, and so very far from home.

 

Kaaras joins Varric, standing with his sword unsheathed, “So you’re yelling at Eevee why?”

 

In my head music is starting to swell again.  I can hear the Shire theme from Lord of the Rings playing.  Birds singing in the background.  Sun on my skin.  The smell of grass and flowers.  Mahanon’s words fall away.  As does Varric’s reply.  I’m reminded, strongly, of the moment in Rivendell, when the council argues over the Ring, and Frodo steps forward.  “ ** _MJ_** ,” Wisdom stands beside me.  “ ** _You are not alone_**.”  Spirits flood back in, swirling around me, crowding me, reaching out to me.

 

I am not alone.

 

When the words scroll across my inner eye, I speak the words, clearly, loudly.  My broken voice cracks, fades, and struggles to be heard, but I do it, “Many that live deserve death.  Some that die deserve life.  Can you give it to them Mahanon?  Do not be too eager to deal out death and judgement.  Even the very wise cannot see all ends.”

 

I know these words.   They’re the words Gandalf spoke to Frodo, in the mines.

 

Mahanon says something, but I can’t hear him, the music is too loud.  It fills me up and more words tumble out, shattered by my shitty speaking skills, “So do all who live to see such times.”  I hold my left hand up, the Mark splutters and flares, “But that is not for them to decide.  All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”  Wow, I’m channelling my inner Gandalf, and I never even knew I had an inner Gandalf.  “There are forces at work in this world Mahanon, besides the will of evil.  You stand beside dwarves, elves, and dragon horned Vashoth.  Perhaps you were all meant to be in Haven.  Perhaps you were all meant to join the Inquisition.  And that is a very encouraging thought.”

 

Suddenly, all the Spirits flee, the music cuts out, and I’m left standing next to burning wagons in the dark.  Only Solas’ staff, with a light on top, illuminates my immediate area properly.  And with the knowledge I just did some epic public speaking.  I think I want to throw up.

 

“Vhenan?”  Solas is pushing through the crowd.  I don’t fight when he pulls me into a hug.  “What is going on here?”

 

“Damned if I know Chuckles,” Varric is staring at me like I grew a second head.  “Mouse said words over the dead.  Like she did at the Temple.  Then the elf over there,” He waves at Mahanon.  And then Varric shrugs, “Shit.  Just.  Shit.”

 

Clearing his throat Kaaras says, “Um Eevee said.  She said.”

 

No one else says anything else, they just stare.  Guess they don’t appreciate great literature.

 

Lesson Nineteen:  For a Fade nerd Solas is surprisingly boring.

 

Unable to get a straight answer out of anyone.  Solas got cranky.  I tried to tell him all I did was speak the funeral words, and quote Gandalf.  He’s still grumpy.  Breaking up the funeral’s wake, he’s sent everyone, not checking the fire, back to camp.  Including me.  He just scooped me up and strode off, after telling me it’s bedtime.

 

We at least got a tent all to ourselves.

 

Tonight, he won’t be a bear, he’ll be an elf.  For a few seconds I get my hopes up we could do something fun in the Fade.  He dashes them by telling me we’d be doing the same thing as last night, laying on the bed, listening to another book.  He’s convinced I need to rest.

 

I want to rebel, and counter him, but I do remember to listen to what he’s not saying.  If he’s this insistent on resting, it’s not for me, it’s for him.  As boring as I may find it, Solas needs this.  He’s done lots today.  More shapeshifting.  More carrying me around.  More fighting.  I need to cut him some slack.

 

With my right shoulder still injured, we don’t bother changing for bed, we just lay down on the bedrolls as we are.  He helps me onto my left side curling up behind me.  His body acts like a support for my shoulder and I soon drop off to sleep.

 

Opening my eyes in my bedroom, I find I’m already dressed for bed.  Urgh.  Solas is already waiting for me.  The bed is made up ready.  All I have to do is settle down to listen.

 

“Ma asha,” He’s using a reasonable tone.  “Please.  You must give yourself time to adjust to this body and this world.  Your mana returns quickly.  It will not be long now.”

 

“Fine,” I huff the word.  I’ve spent so fucking long being forced to rest, I don’t want to do it now.

 

Hands cup my face, tilting my head so I look up at him.  Grey eyes with a hint of blue gaze down at me, “Perhaps, it would help if we had some of your wonderful cocoa first.  And those snickerdoodles?”  I still don’t like it.  “Please.”

 

Nodding, I stomp out of the bedroom, which is hard to do with a limp, and go to the kitchen.  My poor cupboards get my temper taken out on them, as I crash around, making the cocoa.

 

Lesson Twenty:  Fade calories don’t count.

 

“Child,” Wisdom’s voice comes from behind me.  Jumping in surprise I turn to find a small black cat sitting on one of my counters.  It looks like a normal cat, until you look at its eyes.  In the game the Fade was mostly green, that’s what they remind me of.

 

“Hey Wisdom,” I greet it.  Waving the pot, I’m going to make the cocoa in, I ask, “Would you like some cocoa too?”  Can Spirits eat?

 

It shakes its cute little head at me, “No, thank you child.  Cocoa does not interest me, anymore than it interests you.”  Which is true.  I don’t really want the cocoa.  “I would enjoy a banana split.”

 

I was not expecting that.

 

“Um, okay, sure,” I shrug and start making it a banana split.  Unfortunately, this means I can’t make the cocoa at the same time.  Oops.  Never mind.

 

“I would enjoy your company.  Perhaps you would like to make yourself a banana split too,” Well, Wisdom is supposed to be a pretty smart Spirit.  I’d be a very foolish person to ignore its advice.  Oh no, this will delay bedtime even further.  When I go to get the ingredients from my cupboards, Wisdom stops me, “There is a faster way child.”

 

“There is?”  Really?  This should be good.

 

“Yes,” It pads across my counter, jumping the gap to the small breakfast nook I have.  “Come, sit,” One of my two stools pulls itself out.  Doing as I’m told, I’m soon engrossed in a lesson from Wisdom.  It has me concentrate on the memory of a banana split.  Focusing on the taste, the smell, the appearance.  In front of my eyes, two dishes of the most perfect banana splits ever made appear.

 

“Wisdom, that’s amazing,” I hold my fist out to it.  To my shock, it lifts a paw, and gently fist bumps me.  “Thanks.”

 

“You are welcome,” One of the bowls slides in front of me, with a spoon.  The other slides in front of Wisdom.

 

Tucking in, I get lost in the taste, the texture.  I can’t eat a lot.  It’ll make me sick.  So, I hold the food in my mouth for as long as I can.  “Child,” Wisdom’s dish is empty, and it’s licking its whiskers.  “This is the Fade.  This food is not real.  There is no stomach for it to upset.”

 

It takes a few seconds for me to realise what it just said, then I put my head down, and practically inhale the food.  Its right.  My stomach doesn’t kick, because the food isn’t hitting it, because the food isn’t solid, isn’t real.

 

Pushing the dish away I sigh in happiness.  I’ve not eaten one of these in years.  And then the penny drops.  If I can eat a banana split, without having to worry about my stomach, what else can I eat?

 

“Anything,” Wisdom tells me.  “You need only remember it.”  Oh god, this is perfect.  But what should I eat next?  “Cheesecake?”  It prompts.

 

We devour a whole salted caramel cheesecake between us.  I’m aware it’s a very polite eater.  I’m so busy shoving food in my mouth, I may miss and smear it a bit.  After the cheesecake, we try lemon pavlova.

 

Lesson Twenty-One:  Fade food parties are fun.

 

“Vhenan!”  Solas’ voice snaps behind me.

 

Uh-oh.

 

Guiltily, I turn to see him standing there.  Hands behind his back, projecting grumpy at me.  “Um.”  I was going to throw Wisdom under the bus a little.  They’re besties, he should forgive it quickly.  But after this gift of Fade food, I can’t do that to it.  Offering up the last spoonful to Solas, I ask, “Pavlova?”  Who can be angry at pavlova?

 

“My love,” He’s using his reasonable tone again.  “You are meant to be resting.  We agreed to listen to a book, together.”  No, he told me what we’re doing.  I just couldn’t think of a good enough argument to get out of it.  At least until now.

 

“But Solas,” I eat the last spoonful, fuck him, if he doesn’t want it, I do.  “Look.  I can eat anything I want to.  Wisdom showed me how.”  Concentrating on the next dessert, I make three dishes.  “See. How amazing is this.  No wonder you love the Fade so much.  This place is awesome.”  To Wisdom I add, “Careful, the dish is hot.”

 

“I shall take care child,” It tells me and we both tuck into the warm cookie dough.  But not just cookie dough, no, this is layered with melted chocolate.  And it almost sticks to the inside of your mouth.

 

“You made this?” Solas is hovering behind me.  “You brought it into being from a memory?”

 

“Yep,” I wave my spoon towards his dish.  “Try it.  Seriously, I thought Love was a good teacher.  Wisdom’s just as good.”

 

Settling on the stool beside me, he does try a tiny piece of cookie dough.  Ignoring him I go back to stuffing my face.  I’ve eaten so much food, and I don’t feel full, or sick.  There are so many dishes I want to eat.  And so little time.

 

Finishing mine, I turn to find Solas sitting there with his eyes closed, and then he makes this noise.  For a second it sounds painful, before it turns into a moan that makes my toes curl.  “Beloved, what is this delightful food called?”

 

Yes.  Success.  He likes it.

 

“Warm cookie dough and chocolate,” I scrape the bottom of my dish, but I seem to have run out.  Then I notice Wisdom’s doing ninja stealth moves, getting it closer to Solas’ unprotected dish.  It gives me a wink.  Together we raid his portion of dessert.  Between us we swipe about half of it, and it swiftly becomes a race; who can eat the most cookie dough.

 

When his dish is clean. I expect him to carry me off to rest.  Instead he waves a hand and three bowls appear.  In them are strange blue leaves floating in a red liquid.  “This is a treat my mother used to make me,” He fishes one of the leaves out and eats it.

 

Mimicking him, I put one of the leaves in my mouth.  Heat and cold explode on my tongue.  All with an aftertaste of mint.  I’ve never had anything like it before.  How on Earth did his mother make this?

 

Wisdom provides the next food dish, a rare memory it found by accident.  This one is more savoury, a type of fish and a BBQ like sauce covers it, with a blend of spices I’ve never come across.  You have to eat it with your fingers.  I think I’m going to like the cuisine here in Thedas.  As long as it isn't Bambi's mother.

 

Afterwards, I lick and suck my fingers clean, and glance up to see Solas staring at me.  There’s a flush on his face, and his ears are turning red.  Clearing his throat, he jerks his eyes away, and he finishes the last of his portion, “This was a beautiful dish Wisdom.  Thank you for sharing with us.”

 

“You are welcome my friend,” It’s busy licking a paw clean.  The sauce got everywhere.  To the point, Solas grabs and wets some kitchen paper, to wipe my face for me.  Holding the paper in front of me, he shows me all the mess I made.

 

“Thanks,” I beam at him.  Since we’ve moved on from desserts, I remember a pizza I always loved as a kid.  I have to explain the concept of how to eat it, and then we all dive in to grab a slice.

 

This is better.  This is more fun than resting on my bed.  We take turns, showing off with our memories of food, and the night passes far too quickly.

 

**oOo**

 

She changes everything.

 

Sitting, sharing memories of food, he struggles to keep himself from staring at her.

 

In but a few days, she is doing something that takes many Dreamers years to learn.  She is recreating a memory, and making it real, to the point you can taste it.  And all it took was a simple lesson from Wisdom.

 

He is in awe of her.

 

If she can do this, she does not need to rest, she is recovered already from the ordeal of the Breach.  And her smile.  Her laugh.  She is free with them here.  Had been free with them earlier as he carried her.

 

Now he understands why Joy came to her.  It would not have been able to resist her allure, any more than he can.

 

This did not happen last time.

 

She had drawn Despair to her in droves.  Her smiles had been so rare, he could count the number of them he had seen on his fingers, with digits left over.  Only twice had he heard her laugh, both times had been when she was round with Rose.

 

He will do anything to defend her happiness.

 

“ ** _Good_** ,” Wisdom appears to be engrossed with battling MJ for pieces of ‘pizza topping’.  Its voice entering his mind only, MJ is blissfully unaware, “ ** _Remember those words my friend.  Soon they will be put to the test.  Her happiness?  Or your Pride?_** ”  It looks straight at him, “ ** _For her sake, I hope you have learnt your lesson, and you put her happiness first.  She is already blooming far more than she was allowed to before.  Be careful you encourage and support her, and do not stifle her_**.”

 

Taking its words to heart, he renews his vows to her.

 

“ ** _One last thing_** ,” It lets MJ take the last piece of pizza.  “ ** _MJ must be the one to shape the Inquisition.  She must be the one to set the direction of Thedas.  We in the Fade agreed to follow her, not you_**.”  He hides his flinch, by recreating the memory of a simple cheese-based dish.

 

Her delight is infectious, he spends the rest of the night concentrating on her, on her happiness.  And it is a night he will never forget.


	34. Fallout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some chapters seem to write themselves. This was one of the easy ones. I hope you enjoy :)

“So, we are all in agreement?” Cassandra looks around their emergency war table.  All of those gathered here nod.  They have been arguing over their next course of action for most of the night.  Finally, they are of one mind.

 

Even with little sleep, Lady Montilyet, looks as perfect now, as the moment this council session began.  Aware of her own strengths, sometimes Cassandra still cannot help but envy Leliana’s friend.  “We are,” Their new Ambassador taps on her writing board.  Copious notes have been taken by her through the long hours of the night.  “With everything we have uncovered, we can put right many wrongs here in Haven.  While you are free to find the Herald.”

 

“And her husband, Solas,” In sharp contrast, Cullen looks as if he has not slept in days, perhaps weeks.  Lyrium withdrawal was taking a harsh toll on him.  His voice holds little humour to it as he adds, “He’s not going to be easy to convince we mean his wife no harm.”

 

“Which is why we agreed Cassandra should be the one to approach them,” Leliana was sitting reading reports from her scouts, and following their meeting, all at the same time.  If she’s slept since the explosion, Cassandra has no idea when, she appears to be everywhere, all the time.  “Other than you Commander, Cassandra is the least capable of us at playing the Game.  Solas has had several interactions with her.  Her honesty is without question.”  For a second mischief crosses her face, “As is her temper.”

 

Gritting her teeth, Cassandra accepts the criticism, “I am aware of my weakness.  I will keep my temper on a tight leash.  My priority is the Herald and her safety.  And verifying she yet lives.”  To find out the Herald had been shot with an arrow, by one of their own scouts, had been horrifying.

 

To then discover she had been attacked multiple times while in Haven?  Cassandra knows her task, to convince the Herald to trust them, is almost certainly doomed to failure.  From the few times, she herself, has interacted with her, she’s found the woman to be timid, fearful, weak, skittish, and clearly prone to fleeing from danger.  No, they must concentrate on Solas.  He must be the one they convince to re-join them.  Recent events have proven the Herald to be a very dutiful, and obedient wife, she will follow wherever Solas leads her.

 

Solas’ past was almost the most shocking thing they’d discovered.  An ex-slave from Tevinter?  At least it answered many of their questions.  Like where he was trained in magic, his impeccable highborn manners, his imperious attitude, and why he had no fear of Templars.  Where else could he have developed such a strange obsession with the Fade, except in Tevinter?  Or learned such unusual fighting techniques?  His Trial by combat was the talk of Haven, yet all who witnessed it, swear the improbable tale was true.

 

“If she has died of her wound,” Cullen starts, then stops.  Rubbing his face, he scratches at his growing stubble, “Leliana’s report did state the Trevelyan women are of fragile constitution.  Evelyn is the last living member of her line.  And I’ve known strong men, and women, who have succumbed to a single arrow.”  He voices what none of them want to believe.  If the Herald is already dead.  Then there is no known way of closing the Breach.

 

They will have failed before they’ve even had the chance to begin.

 

It is Lady Montilyet who answers him, “Commander, you make a valid point.  But we need to remember the Herald is a powerful healer,” Who is still suffering from mana exhaustion and unable to heal herself.  “Both Solas, and Master Adan, are experienced with her new methods.  Methods, which have proven very effective for all the wounded here at Haven.”

 

“Well said Josie,” Leliana puts down another report.  “We know Master Adan travels with her.  And while he was in charge of the infirmary, few died under his watch.”  Cassandra is still amazed at how few had contracted wound rot.  Solas said his wife had taught him the simple steps.  Steps Adan had easily accepted.  Steps their new healer refused to use.  And the wounded left in Haven, were beginning to contract wound rot.  There was little hope for them now.  Once rot got into a wound, death was nearly always the outcome.

 

“True,” Nodding, Cullen seems to shake himself awake.  Reaching for the sheets of paper in front of him he says, “Very well then, we shall assume she lives.”  Reading the list in his hand, “All of these people are loyal, level headed, and capable individuals.  They’ll be ready to travel with Lady Cassandra within the hour.”  Shuffling to another sheet, he sighs, “What few mounts we have, will also be ready for you.”

 

“Thank you, Commander,” She gives him a nod.  Mounts will make it easier to catch up with the Herald and her group.  They will not have gotten far, they will be held back by the slow pace of the children.

 

“In the meantime,” Lady Montilyet was rapidly reading the many lists she had.  “We will begin the work here in Haven.  Quartermaster Threnn has cooperated fully, and we believe the men assigned to her, are the thieves. Not only did they steal the goods from the merchants, but the coin to pay for them, from the Inquisition itself.  The coin is now recovered and will be given to the merchants.  We are keeping the goods.”

 

“Discipline will be reapplied to the recruits, and the soldiers,” Commander Cullen steps in.  “The women, and some men, of Haven, will be able to walk the streets safely.”  Leliana’s scouts had not had to dig very hard to uncover those crimes.  Known offenders were already hanging by the gates, clear warning to all, rape was not tolerated.

 

Glancing up, Leliana picks up the conversation, “Kayne’s wounds are beginning to fester.  The healer seems to think she can save him.  My agents report there is little chance of any recovery for him,” Which simply leaves them the issue of dealing with his father.

 

“I’ll prepare a letter in advance,” Lady Montilyet starts to write with her pen.  “His father will need to be handled carefully.  He is known to favour his bastard Kayne.”  Pausing the Ambassador adds, “Perhaps we can turn his wrath from the Inquisition to the healer?”

 

The Game continues to annoy and disgust Cassandra.  It represents everything she hates about her own family.  She does not understand Leliana’s fascination with it.  Or even, how someone as gentle as Lady Montilyet, can stand to have anything to do with it.  If it can be turned on the boastful Surgeon, she will not stand in their way.  The woman was loud, annoying, and had refused to listen when anyone had tried to explain mana exhaustion to her.  It was little wonder Solas had rejected the woman’s fumbling, and misinformed, attempts at healing his wife.

 

They all agree to Lady Montilyet’s idea.

 

“And what of the Trevelyans?”  Cassandra asks.  The family in Haven appeared to be split.  The males now refusing to accept Lady Mallory’s authority, deserting her, and declaring themselves to their sister.

 

“Frankly a mess,” Lady Montilyet sighs heavily.  “Evelyn is the only clear lawful heir, and her re-emergence, from nowhere, has changed everything.  Should anything happen to her, the House of Trevelyan will be instantly plunged into a war of succession.  They are spread across much of the Free Marches, with many marriages over the ages, linking them to very prominent and powerful Houses.”

 

“Meaning the war will spread, quickly,” Leliana gives them her full attention.  “Engulfing most of the Free Marches in chaos.”  Cassandra does not want to think of yet another part of Thedas falling to the growing stain of war.  “This cannot be allowed to happen.  My agents report the four male Trevelyans have been asking about their sister and Solas.  Specifically, checking the child she was carrying was female.  They seem unconcerned Solas is an elf, their only concern is that the union is fruitful.”

 

Images Cassandra never wants to see again, rise in her mind.  Travelling to Haven, with Varric in tow, their group had come across a very frantic Solas.  He had begged for their aid.  His wife had been taken by a rogue group of Templars.  Assuming it was a misunderstanding, they had agreed to speak to the Templars, there they had been forced to defend themselves, putting the group to the sword.  At the Templars’ camp had been the grisly remains of many mages, all tortured, slowly, to death.  Evelyn barely alive, her breath weak in her chest. Worst of all, Cassandra can still see where Evelyn’s baby girl, had been pulled out of her belly, and left dead by her mother, the birthing cord still connecting them.  Thank the Maker they’d had a competent mage healer with them, he’d saved Evelyn’s life.  Though it had been far too late for her baby.

 

“They would accept an elf-bloodied child?” Lady Montilyet’s shocked voice breaks into Cassandra’s thoughts.

 

“Yes,” Leliana is still paying them full attention.  “They have been overheard by an agent discussing it.  A known elf-bloodied child is preferable to Lady Mallory,” This Cassandra does understand, the woman is the perfect picture of spoilt, brattish, nobility.  “They’re even considering elevating him to minor nobility.”

 

“You’ve not met Solas yet have you Lady Montilyet?” Cullen asks.  Humour now lacing his words.

 

“I have not had the pleasure, no,” She answers him.  Her poise is so perfect.  Cassandra refuses to be envious of it.

 

“Pleasure,” Cullen is smiling now.  “Ah yes.  Once you do meet him, you’ll understand why I’d rather face a high dragon, in nothing but my small clothes, than face him when he’s protecting his wife.  His breaking of Adan’s assistant’s nose is becoming legendary.  As are his blistering lectures, of anyone stupid enough to try and enter his lair, without his express permission.”  A low chuckle from him surprises Cassandra, “Maker save us all from his wrath.  The man is an unstoppable force of nature.”

 

Cassandra remembers the Commander had a few encounters with Solas after the Breach was stabilised.  Ones Cullen lost, and was forced into full blown retreat.

 

“Oh,” Their Ambassador’s eyes are wide.  “I will keep that in mind when I meet him.”

 

“We must first convince him to return to Haven,” Cassandra refocuses them to the matter at hand.  “For now, we can do little about House Trevelyan.  Maker willing, they are all as accepting of Solas fathering the Herald’s children.”  Because if they are not.  Cassandra is doubtful of Solas’ cooperation in finding the Herald another husband.  And if she is honest with herself, she is extremely doubtful of the Herald forsaking Solas.

 

In the dungeons, the woman had been instantly cowed when Cassandra had threatened Solas.  On the mountain, their reunion was heartfelt, and moving.  They’d been inseparable up the mountain.  Beneath the Breach, before the Herald had reopened the smaller rift, they had shared a touching moment.  To the point Cassandra had been forced to turn away to blink back tears.

 

Theirs was not a love to be so easily set aside.

 

“Is there any other business we need to discuss?”  She briskly moves this session on.  Ready to set off, to be doing something useful.  Instead of sitting in the Chantry watching the Maker’s wrath smash down on Haven.  Or helplessly standing, staring at the avalanche, which had buried the outer gates.  The recruits, and mages, had worked tirelessly, clearing the mountain of hard packed snow, making a usable path to the gate.

 

Again, everyone is in agreement.  So, she takes her leave.  She has her pack to check over.  And prayers to say.  Maker guide them and have mercy on them all

 

**oOo**

 

Leaving the Chantry, Cullen is glad the sun still isn’t up.  Right now, his eyes would stab daggers in his head.  Candlelight was painful enough.  Motioning to some of the recruits playing runner, as the elves had all followed the Herald, he has them spread word to the names on the list.  Time to get to work.

 

Heading for the stables, he commandeers as many mounts as he’s able to.  Cassandra will need what ever they can get.  More recruits are forced up from their bedrolls, as there are no elves to ready the mounts.

 

Quartermaster Threnn catches up with him as he raids the Blacksmith’s for spare arrows.  “Commander Rutherford,” She gives him a smart salute, which he returns.

 

“Quartermaster,” He does not like the woman.  Her continued blindness over the traitor Loghain’s actions turns his stomach.  While he gave up all ties to Ferelden during his training as a Templar, he can’t find it in his heart to forgive the power grabbing bastard.  Thank the Maker Neria had survived the betrayal at Ostagar.  She was able to raise a force powerful enough to counter the Blight and reveal Loghain’s true intentions.  A fluttering in his chest is swiftly ignored.  The Hero of Ferelden was said to be in love with another, rumour paints Leliana as her love, though Cullen cannot see it himself.  Leliana was not a woman to encourage love to bloom in a heart, fear certainly, but not love.

 

“Your runner’s list is being gathered.  I’ve had to use more of the soldiers, to do some of the carrying, to make sure everything’s ready for you on time,” The woman reports.  “Without the elves, it’ll take longer than normal.”

 

“Of course, use as many soldiers as you need,” They seemed to be needed everywhere right now.  Running orders, clearing stables, carrying supplies, even the kitchen had begged for help.  Some recruits had been drafted in to act as servants for the few nobles left in Haven.  Thedas was truly in the grip of chaos if soldiers had to do the work of servants.

 

“Thank you, Commander,” She salutes and thankfully leaves him be.

 

Standing at the staging area, he watches as sleepy looking people turn up.  These are the ones picked from his forces to accompany Cassandra.  As the last person trickles in, he pulls them to one side and informs them of their mission.  To their credit, they go from sleepy confusion, to wide awake awareness within moments.  Impressing the seriousness of this mission on them, he makes sure they are aware Sir Rylen is second in command under Cassandra, and then he sends them all on their way.  They have much to get ready in a short space of time.

 

“Sir Rylen, a word, please,” Leading the way to the small dock.  Cullen gathers his thoughts, “I’ve seen you spar with Lady Cassandra, and many of those chosen for this mission.”

 

“Yes Commander,” Sir Rylen is watching him calmly.  The man is ridiculously hard to rile.  Known for keeping a clear head, even in the midst of battle.  His reputation at solving problems was hard won.

 

“I have a difficult task for you.  Impossible even,” Internally Cullen winces at what he’s about to say. He owes Lady Cassandra everything.  She saw something worth saving in him, and this feels like a betrayal of her trust, “Lady Cassandra is in charge of this mission.  But,” He falters.

 

“But she has a temper,” Rylen says.  “She is brilliant.  Inspiring.  And a terror on the battlefield.  I would gladly follow her into any battle. But,” Now the Knight-Captain pauses.  “Her temper sometimes rules her.”

 

“Yes,” Cullen relaxes, he didn’t have to say it.

 

“You worry about any potential clashes between herself and Serah Solas?” And this is why the man had earned his reputation.  You didn’t have to explain things to him, he simply understood them.

 

“Solas is extremely protective of his wife.  After the incident with the arrow,” He leaves the rest hanging.

 

“Yes, Serah Solas was very intense,” Rylen laughs next to him.  “The Lady Herald is very lucky to have such a dedicated Champion watching over her.”  And with that Cullen knows he’s picked the right man.

 

“Please try and preserve the peace where possible,” This task is going to be impossible.  “And, I would like you to observe Solas.  He has the manner of the most arrogant of nobles, but does he have the ability to lead?  Can he be worked into the current structure of the Inquisition?  It won’t be long until Thedas turns its attention to us, we must be ready for the attacks, physical, and political.  Our defences must be unbreakable.”

 

“Understood,” They both gaze out over the lake.  “By your leave Commander.  I will ready myself for this mission.”

 

“Thank you, Sir Rylen,” They both salute and go their separate ways.  There is still much for Cullen to do before Cassandra and her group can leave.

 

**oOo**

 

Agents gathered in her tent listen attentively to her commands.  As one they turn and leave.  Her instructions will be followed, swiftly.

 

Only Beech remains.

 

Motioning her closer, Leliana stands by the maps on her makeshift table, “There are a few agents already with the Herald.  One of them, Graves, was among the wounded.  If he still lives, he is to get close to the Herald and her husband, he’s a trained servant, and skilled at the job.  Should Solas prove intractable, one of you must eliminate him; make it appear either as an accident, or if possible, pin it on a known enemy.  The Herald will then fall under our influence.”

 

“Yes, Sister Leliana,” Beech gives every indication of staring at the maps Leliana is pointing at.

 

“There may be another problem, which will require Solas’ removal,” Leliana sweeps her finger over the map, until it rests on Ostwick.  “The House of Trevelyan cannot be allowed to fall into chaos.  It is doubtful they will accept Solas as the Herald’s husband.  If he will not stand aside.  If she will not see reason.”

 

“Understood, Sister Leliana,” Beech nods.

 

“Good, I do not need to remind you how vital this woman is to the Inquisition,” Leliana has trained her people well.  They are more than capable of thinking beyond the moment.  Beyond one country, to all of Thedas.  “It is better for her if she believes she has joined the Inquisition freely.  Go.  See it is done.”

 

Saluting smartly, Beech gives her a simple bow, before leaving.

 

Turning back to the maps Leliana keeps her face impassive.  There were forces moving through Thedas.  And most of them were not hers.  New players in this most deadly of version of the Game muddied waters that were once clear.  She will find them all.  And eliminate any she cannot control.

 

Thedas will not fall.

 

She will not fail Thedas as she did Most Holy.

 

**oOo**

 

Retrieving her own paper from the stores, Josephine refuses to let herself dwell on the terrible conditions she is being forced to endure here in Haven.  Leliana had offered her the position of Ambassador and she was more than suited to the task.  A simple chore will not stop her.

 

Neither will being forced to mix her own ink.  Or trimming her own candles.  And many more tasks. Finally, she sits down at her desk.  There are notes to be transcribed.  Letters to be written.  And a million other tasks to be done.  She does not glance at the empty desks where the elven scribes once sat.  Now she must scribe everything herself, it slows down the work, but it does get done.

 

First, she turns her attention to the problem of the Herald, and her most unsuitable husband.  While the idea of an elf-bloodied baby, didn’t seem to upset the Trevelyan family here in Haven, it is doubtful the others will feel the same way.  Let alone the way the other noble Houses will react to the news.  Thankfully, the Herald sounds like a very dutiful and biddable woman.  She will no doubt be open to the suggestion of setting Solas aside, for a much more politically acceptable match.  Afterall, love has nothing to do with marriage.

 

Dismissing Commander Rutherford’s earlier little joke, as well as the overblown rumours circulating about Solas’ fighting skills, she starts compiling a list of the most suitable nobles out there. Josephine feels a warm glow at being able to accomplish such a straight forward task.  Matchmaking was easy once you set your mind to it.  She even marks a few names of those she knows are uninterested in female company.  In case the Herald can no longer stand the touch of a man.  In which case, Solas would still be able to father her children, and they could be safely hidden under the fiction of being her husband’s.  It would certainly not be the first time such a thing had occurred.

 

When the fire gutters in the grate, she sighs.  Checking her list.  She deems it complete and sets it aside.  Getting to her feet, she picks up the basket for firewood and goes to brave the cold of Haven.  It tended to seep into her very bones if the fire wasn’t kept up.

 

Filling the basket as much as she dares, she lifts it, struggles, and then sets her shoulders.  Staggering under the weight, she shivers, the wind ripping straight through her.  Step after step, she makes slow progress.

 

Reaching the sanctuary of her office, she huddles by the fire, building it back up, willing the heat to chase the ice away.  When she sits back at her desk, her shoulders protest, just as they have done every time she’s been forced to fetch her own firewood.

 

There is one thing Josephine knows they need to rectify, and quickly, these barbarically austere levels of comfort must be abolished, or else the Inquisition will not be able to gain the noble backing it so desperately needs.

 

Reaching for her next task, she bends over her desk, quill in hand, working hard at bringing order from chaos.


	35. Mischief, Mistakes, Misinterpretations, and Mysteries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a lot of other words beginning with 'mis'.  
> It always startled me how religious Sera and Varric were. They weren't allowed in any Chantrys but they still believed. And after Haven fell, Varric's attitude does reflect his growing belief in the Herald/Inquisitor. I always wondered what the other races would make of the Herald/Inquisitor when they started believing too.
> 
> Elvish - Ma falon = my friend

Curled up on my left side, I can feel Solas plastered against my back.  One of his arms is under my head, the other wrapped around my middle.  His legs are tucked up behind mine.  I’m currently being spooned.

 

He did the same thing in Haven, in the cabin.

 

Before Solas, I’d never been spooned.  All the books, movies, and TV shows tried to sell it as amazing.  I didn’t buy it.  It looked uncomfortable, and separate beds sounded much nicer.  I’m starting to change my mind.  Solas is good at this.  He’s good at everything.

 

When he moves, it’s only to snuggle me.  He’s such a hug monster, “Morning Sunshine,” I chirp at him.  I’ve never been a morning person.  My medication meant I was sluggish, or in pain, or simply grumpy.  Last night in the Fade was indescribable.  Add in a pain free morning and life is pretty good right now.

 

“Good morning ma asha,” Solas presses a kiss to my hair.  Which, eww, hasn’t been washed for days.  It can’t be very nice.

 

Wiggling myself around onto my back, carefully not jostling my right shoulder, I can turn my head to look at him.  He seems so much more relaxed and rested.  Fade food nights might need to become a thing.  “That was fun.”

 

“It was,” He lifts up onto his left elbow.  “It is rare for Wisdom to be so playful.  You appear to bring out a lighter side to it.”  He leans over me, pressing our foreheads together, “And me.  My thanks, my heart, you make everything lighter.”

 

I can’t help but reach out to him and touch his face.  We’re so having a moment, but I can’t help saying, “Admit it. The pizza was the best dish.”

 

With Solas all but laying on me, his chuckle rumbles through me, “Oh Vhenan, it was surely the cookie dough and chocolate.”

 

“Pizza,” I draw the word out.  Cheating outrageously, I slide my hand down from his face, and move it to his ribs.  Tickling proves far more effective than I could ever have dreamt.

 

To counter my tickle offensive, he has to cover me with his body, trying to trap my only working arm.  If this was anyone else, I’d be freaking out, but its Solas.  He’s safe.  Angling his body, he gets his mouth to my ear, hissing out, “When your shoulder is healed, I shall get even, my love.”  I pay his feeble threats no mind, managing one last tickle, before he pins me completely.

 

Both of us are a bit out of breath, panting heavily, when I realise one of his legs has slid between mine.  Even realising this, I’m not freaking out.  Being elven, Solas is built so differently to a human male, his weight on top of me is noticeable, but not crushing.  In fact, I think, I might be finding it comforting.

 

As his face is still next to mine, I press my cheek against his, “Thank you Solas.”

 

Lifting his head, he presses his forehead to mine, “For what beloved?”

 

“For making Thedas fun,” Since I’ve been here, he has somehow managed to do this impossible task.  “Thedas is a fucking scary, dangerous, fucked up place.  And you’ve taken care of me, protected me, and still managed to make me laugh.”  For the first time I boop our noses.  “I think I’d forgotten how to laugh.  It’s been so long.”

 

Those grey eyes with a hint of blue do the emotional thing again.  God, I could stare into them for hours.  Releasing my hand, his shifts enough, so he can rest his hand against my face.  Those too long, yet graceful, fingers caress my skin.  I don’t take advantage of my opening, instead I give him a one-armed hug, resting my hand on his shoulder blade.  “Vhenan,” His voice throbs with emotion.

 

“Oh,” A voice cuts in.  Both of us jump, Solas slamming a barrier over us, as he whips his head around.  At this angle I can see Ellana clearly.  “I didn’t mean to interrupt.  Ir abelas.”  Her eyes stare down at the ground.  “I know the Lady Herald couldn’t eat last night.  I thought you’d want to know; the porridge is almost ready.”

 

Effortlessly Solas goes into a crouch, “You are most kind.  We will be there presently.”

 

Thankfully she backs out of the tent, leaving us alone, as Solas comes to help me sit up.  When I’m up on my feet, I tug him close, muttering, “Joy and Love said to be careful of her.”

 

“Joy?” He frowns, though he looks over his shoulder to where Ellana was standing.  “Hmm, I.  No, we; will be careful of her.”  Fussing with my clothes, he gets me ready for the day, “Come.  We shall get our breakfast and continue with our journey.”

 

**oOo**

 

Pleased, she steps with purpose towards a group of flat ears.  After her actions with the deer they’d been eager to speak to her.  Some simple flattery and they’d accepted her without question.

 

“Ellana,” Her brother places himself firmly in her path.

 

“Mahanon,” Bubbling hate claws at her insides.  Her hands itch for her daggers.

 

“What cruel game are you playing now?” Of everyone here, he was the only one who thought they knew her.

 

“Me?”  Feigning innocence, she points at the cooking fire.  “I was concerned the Lady Herald couldn’t eat anything last night,” For a shem the woman was shockingly weak.  She doesn’t understand what Solas sees in the useless lump, but it will make it easier to compete against her.  “I let them know about the porridge.”

 

“Stop it,” Stepping closer he dares to wag a finger at her.  “Leave them alone.  Why must you keep doing this?”

 

Ignoring him, she sidesteps him, and carries on with what she was doing.  Only now, she isn’t satisfied with simply stopping their passion filled moment in their tent.  No.  Now she wants to cause more lasting mischief.  Reaching the fire, she settles into the group, accepting the bowl passed to her.

 

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the healer Adan, stepping out of his tent into the rapidly lightening morning.  Yes.  She can use him.  Later.  She will speak to him later.

 

**oOo**

 

Impatient to forge ahead, Cassandra holds her temper, barely.  They have yet to leave Haven proper.  What the scouts had discovered in the tunnel had stopped them in their tracks.  They hadn’t bothered to use one of the messenger crows, they’d sent one of the soldiers back with the news.

 

“To think she was here, so close, just on the other side of the snow blocking the gates,” Sir Rylen says, staring down at the spot they’ve been told Solas had lain down as a bear.  A human sized shape between his front legs.  She cannot see it herself, the floor looks like the floor.  A partial giant bear footprint the only clue to her eyes.

 

“At least we know she survived the first night,” Cassandra glares at the spot.  Beech, and her team of experienced trackers, had been the ones to spot the signs.  To find the discarded bloodied arrow.  To explain what had happened here.

 

“Thank the Maker,” The Knight-Captain is a soothing presence next to her.

 

“Lady Seeker, Knight-Captain,” Beech approaches them.  “We have examined the tracks leaving the tunnel.  We have found where the Lady Herald walked out beside Serah Solas.”

 

Sir Rylen nods at the elf, “Well done Scout Beech.  I can see why Sister Leliana picked you and your team for this mission.  Please, lead us onwards.”  Aware she should be the one giving the orders, Cassandra allows the Templar to take care of this.  Until he says, “At Lady Cassandra’s command, of course.”

 

They both stare at her, “If there is nothing else to discover here, we must press on, and find the Herald.  Her protection is our priority.”

 

“Yes, Lady Cassandra,” Beech salutes.  On her wrist, one of the new strange bracelets the elves were so interested in, catches her eye.  Made of plain knotted string it had six red wooden beads.  Cassandra does not understand their fascination with such badly made pieces of jewellery, perhaps they cannot afford anything better.

 

And so, they set out, slowly, scouts and Mabari hounds, constantly sweeping the ground in front of them.

 

**oOo**

 

Leaving our tent, I squint around the dark campsite.  So, this is what dawn looks like in Thedas?  Stuff it, I’d rather be fast asleep, curled up with Solas in the Fade.  With only his staff casting any light, I’m sharply reminded there aren’t any electric lights in this world.

 

Tipping my head back, I do get to see something breath-taking.  An entire sky full of stars.  I love watching home design shows, this is like someone took a dome, painted it black, and dark blue, while punching bright LEDs through it.  “They’re so bright,” I gasp.  I never saw this on Earth.  Too much light pollution where I lived.

 

Stepping behind me, he braces me, so I can stare without falling over, “You have always loved them.  At the Fallow Mire, you and Sky Watcher, spent many nights simply gazing at the night sky.”  A chuckle comes out of him, “At one point, you pulled me from my Fade Walking, to come and see blazing colours undulate across the sky.  Greens, purples, pinks, they kept us enchanted and enthralled the whole night.”

 

“Whoa, we saw the Northern Lights?” I pause and amend it to, “Sorry Southern Lights.  We’re in the Southern Hemisphere.”

 

“We did,” Solas points upwards.  “You called it an Aurora.  It played, and danced, for us.  It was one of the few times I ever saw you smile.”  I want to go see it now.  Wait.  What does he mean one of the few times he saw me smile?  “Come, let us break our fast of the night.  Food in the Fade does not count.”

 

“Okay,” I let him lead me over to the main fire.  Where he swipes a big bowl of porridge for us to share.  I even get to carry a little bowl of dried fruits.  It might not be very heavy, but I still feel useful.

 

Varric and the others are gathered around another, smaller, campfire.  They’ve put down groundsheets so they can sit and eat.  Solas nudges me over to them.  Perking up, I amble towards my new friends.

 

Reaching them Solas greets them, “Good morning.”

 

“Hey Solas, Eevee,” Kaaras waves a spoonful of porridge at us.  Herah’s drinking but waggles a finger.  Varric, Malika, and Edric just stare.

 

“Fenedhis,” Solas curses.  “Forgive me, I forgot our water.  I shall retrieve it,” Letting go of our porridge, he leaves it hanging in the air.  I’ll have to ask Love, Wisdom, or Solas to teach me how to do that.  “I will not be long,” He tells us and hurries away.

 

From the back, you really do get a great view of his curvy arse, and those fucking legs of his.  I’ve known people who’d kill for thighs like that.  Turning back, I spot the family with the little girl.  They’re at another fire.  She’s running around with the boundless energy children seem to have.

 

Dried fruit bowl still in hand, right arm still in a sling, I try and wrap my left arm around me, but the sling is in the way.  My left hand ends up down by my stomach.  Over at the other fire, the little girl has been called to breakfast.  Throwing herself down between her parents, she shovels the porridge down.  Her parents are so lucky.  And she’s so lucky with her parents.

 

“Ow,” Kaaras’ voice is loud.  Drawn back to our fire, I find them all leaving.  Kaaras is rubbing his ankle.  “Really Varric?”

 

What’s going on?

 

Varric gives me a deep bow, with arm salute thing, “Your Worshipful Heraldness, please forgive us our trespassing upon your holy presence.”  What?  Prodding the others, he shoos them away, “We’ll leave you in peace.”  Edric and Malika go without a peep, but they do bow.  Kaaras and Herah both protest, so Varric swats at them, they don’t bow.  “Pup, Jinx, come on, you can’t intrude on the Herald.”

 

Left on my own, I stand there awkwardly, wondering what I did wrong.  Surreptitiously, I try and sniff my armpit, in case I smell so bad I drove them away.  I can’t tell if I stink or not.  After such a wonderful night, this morning has taken a sharp nosedive.

 

Without help, I’m not confident of getting down to the floor on my own.  If there was a seat, I might be able to manage it.  But with one hand holding a bowl, and the other one in a sling, I daren’t try, and there’s no one nearby I know well enough to ask for help.  The people I thought were my friends, or could eventually be my friends, have abandoned me.  I’m forced to wait for Solas to come hurrying up.

 

“My love,” He jogs over.  “What has occurred?”

 

“I don’t know,” I hate that my voice wobbles.  “Varric made them leave,” And it was Varric.  “He bowed to me and kept calling me Herald.”  Just how badly do I smell?

 

“Ah,” Solas gathers me close.  “It has already begun,” I lean into him confused and upset at their rejection.  “This is a good thing.  Varric has a great many contacts. His belief in your Divine blessing will spread quickly among the non-human populations, and even in parts of the human populations.  You have done well.”  He helps me down to the groundsheet.  “Now, breakfast.”

 

Being the well balanced, emotionally mature adult, I pretend to be, I sulk slightly, “But why does that mean they can’t eat with us?  In the game you get to hang out with your Inner Circle.”

 

Long fingers tilt my head up, making me look at him, “This is not a game.  This is a real world.  Those who join the Inquisition will see you as the Chosen of Andraste.  This title has consequences, it will dramatically change how the people of Thedas view you.  Varric’s reaction will become commonplace.”  His thumbs brush under my eyes, and I refuse to admit they may find wetness there.  “Come here ma falon,” I’m gathered into his lap and his arms.  “I am here.  Love is here.  You are not alone.  We will walk with you.  Stand by you.  And do all we can, to lighten the load you carry on your shoulders.”

 

Hiding my face in his neck, I get myself back under control.  When I’m ready to face this new shitty turn of events, I’m surprised when he gives me back the bow of dried fruit, “I will handle the hot porridge, and the waterskin.  You will handle the dried fruit.  You are more than capable.”  Pressing a kiss to my forehead, he adds, “Together we will handle breakfast.  Together we will handle the Inquisition.  And together we will face Thedas.”

 

“Together,” I echo back.  Thankfully Solas isn’t abandoning me, at least not yet.  A spoonful of porridge is held out to me, obediently I open my mouth.  At least this is familiar.  Less familiar is picking up pieces of fruit, one handed, and popping them into his mouth.  His lips are soft against my fingers.  Hand feeding him should be weird, it’s not, he makes it work.

 

**oOo**

 

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to do better than ‘She’s the Herald’,” Kaaras crosses his arms and glares at the dwarves.  Seriously, this religion stuff messed with people’s heads so much. He’s glad he’s never fallen for this shit.  Everyone who’d been at the funeral pyre with Eevee last night, were acting weird this morning.  Fuck, Eevee’s been called the Herald since she stabilised the Breach, except now, this bunch of idiots were acting like it was true.

 

“Pup,” Varric’s wringing his hands.  “She’s the Herald,” Which makes no sense at all.

 

He counters with, “She’s Eevee.”

 

Malika’s all jittery, “You don’t understand.  You’re not Andrastian.”

 

“Neither are you,” Herah points out.  “The Chantry don’t allow dwarves into its overly gilded places.  Or elves.  Or Vashoth.  None of us are people to them.”

 

Rubbing her face, Malika says, “It doesn’t matter that we’re not allowed in.  It only matters that we believe.  We are Andrastian.”

 

“Fine,” Kaaras unfold his arms and throws his hand up in surrender.  “Try and explain it to the two dumb oxmen, don’t forget to use small words.  Because I just don’t get what the fuck, you’re so wound up about.”  Eevee was just Eevee.  She’s one of the few humans he’s ever met that he likes.

 

“Kaaras,” Erdric starts and then stops.  “After Hessarian gave Andraste mercy, as She burned in agony at the stake, the Maker turned His back on us.  He’s been ignoring us ever since.  It’s taken Andraste a thousand years to change His mind.  And now He’s sent His Bride’s Herald to us.”

 

All three of them are staring at him, “You don’t make it sound like this is a good thing.  Don’t you want this Maker to pay attention to you?”  They called out to him enough.

 

“No,” Varric’s back to wringing his hands.  “And yes.  But the humans are going to mess it up.  You know what they’re like.  And then they’re going to piss Him off and we’re back to where we were.  We have to show the Maker we’ve learnt our lesson. And we’re taking Him seriously.  He’s giving us our big chance here.  If we fuck anything up,” Varric breaks off.  All three of them shudder.

 

Kaaras still doesn’t get it, “So why can’t we sit with Eevee?  We’re not human.  And she likes us.”

 

“Because she’s the Herald,” Malika says.  And it makes even less sense now.  “She’s touched by Andraste Herself.  When the Lady Herald speaks, she speaks His words.  Any orders she gives are His orders.  What she sees, He sees.  What she hears, He hears.  She is the embodiment of His Will here in Thedas.”

 

Crossing his arms again, he can’t help but comment, “You know you all sound crazy?  Right?”

 

“Urgh,” Edric throws his own arms up in surrender.

 

“And,” Herah steps in.  “If Eevee’s linked to this all-powerful Maker.  He’s just seen us all ditch Eevee, walk off, and leave her.”  All five of them turn to stare at Eevee.  She’s sitting in Solas’ lap looking miserable.  Her husband was clearly trying to cheer her up, and it clearly wasn’t working.

 

“Shit,” Varric curses.  “He’s never going to forgive us for this.”

 

“But,” Edric looks horrified.  “She’s the Herald.  We have to show respect to His Bride’s Herald.  He’s sent her to us.  He’s given us a great gift.”

 

All three of them are freaking out.  Kaaras’ doubly glad he’s never caught religion.  “Okay, just calm down.  This is similar to a job our mercenary group was called in for.  If we replace the main employer with the Maker.  And his ward with Eevee.  The job is simple.  We’re hired to protect Eevee.  To help Eevee.  And to act as approved companions.  She’ll let us know how we’re meant to treat her.  If we’re not sure, we’ll ask her.  Let her and Solas guide us in this.  She walked out of Haven, leaving the humans behind, and she took us with her.  That must mean something.”

 

Letting it sink in, he can see the moment they get it, as they all relax.  “If Eevee’s connected to the Maker, then he’s going to see how well we’re gonna take care of Eevee.”  They nod at his words.  “Right now, we’re going to go finish our assigned camp tasks.  Then Herah, and Malika, are going to take up their roles of bodyguards, and companions.  Eevee’s afraid of men, so her bodyguards are going to have to be female.  She’s already shown she likes Herah, and Malika’s, company.”  Malika swallows loudly, she’s even trembling.

 

“The rest of us are going to get Solas to give us our assignments for the day.  He’s good at this command stuff, his orders are easy to follow,” Kaaras is genuinely impressed with Solas.  The elf had to have been pretty high up in a chain of command somewhere to be this proficient.  “Yesterday, he actively encouraged us to talk, tell stories, and chat.  And lastly, remember Eevee treats us all like people, so we’re going to treat her, and Solas, like they’re people too.  We’ll be respectful at all times, but we’ll also show them we want them here with us; not out there, alone in the wilderness.”  They perk up and he might’ve gotten through to them.  Who knew religion made people so damn gullible?

 

“Okay, Herah and I will get the plates, you go do your chores,” When they get up and leave, he wonders if this is what his parents felt like, when he did something really stupid, and they sat him down to talk.  “Have they gone?” His mutters to his sister.

 

“Yep,” She punches his shoulder.  “I didn’t know you could lie like that.”

 

“Urgh,” He shakes his head.  “So long as they never find out I just made that mission up, we’ll be fine.  If I ever catch religion, please smack me up the back of the head.”

 

“I will,” She cheerfully promises.  Then sobers, “If dwarves are catching this brand of crazy.”

 

“Then the humans are going to be worse,” He finishes, shuddering.  “They’re stirred up already.  Who knows what shit they’ll do next.”  Glancing over at Eevee, she’s still in Solas’ lap, he sighs, “She was looking at the elven kids again.”

 

“Fuck,” Herah curses.  “She was heavily pregnant with Solas’ kid.  Before the Templars caught her.”

 

“Yep,” Kaaras picks up the last cup.  “You saw how quickly Solas fell apart in Haven, he’s a complete mess.  She’s barely holding it together.”  He doesn’t even want to know what they’re going through right now.

 

“There’s another thing,” Herah puts the plates down.  “Eevee can’t walk properly.  There’s something wrong with her.”

 

Snorting, he refutes it with, “She’s just recovering from what the Templars did to her, and don’t forget the Breach laid her out.”  Except his sister isn’t buying it, she’s serious, “What am I missing?”

 

For once his sister seems to be at a loss for words, “Kaaras, yesterday.”  Breaking off, she swallows before continuing, “When I was carrying her in the woods.  She didn’t struggle.  Not once.  She didn’t like it.  But she accepted it.  Then on the way back, if she hadn’t been hanging on to me, she’d have fallen.”

 

“The ground wasn’t that uneven,” He mutters.  He’s fought in worse conditions.

 

“I know, but to Eevee, it was nearly impassable,” Herah reaches up to scratch her horns, a sure sign she’s upset.  “When we sat down waiting yesterday, she fell the last bit, she had to catch herself with her arm.  This morning, she didn’t sit down until Solas was there, because she needs help to sit down.”

 

Rapidly running through every memory of Eevee he can dig up, he sees them with new eyes, “This is normal for her.”  Horror punches him in the stomach, “Solas isn’t just her husband, he takes care of her.”  Solas was acting like this was normal for her too.  Carrying her.  Feeding her.  Helping her sit up.  Helping her stand.  Helping her sit.  Suddenly all those muscles on the elf make sense.  He’d built them up caring for Eevee.

 

Eevee’s a powerful healer.  Kaaras saw what she did to Herah’s arm.  If she can’t heal herself, then it means whatever’s wrong, is permanent.

 

“Yep,” Herah shakes her head.  “No wonder she spent so much time shapeshifted on the mountain.  It’s easier to carry a mouse instead of a human.”

 

Furiously reworking plans Kaaras says, “Okay.  We break the news to the others.”  Holding up a hand to stop his sister’s verbal barrage, “Hear me out.  This will reinforce my message to them.  They can’t keep their distance.  Eevee needs them too much.  They have to step forward and help her.  You handle Malika.  I’ve got Varric and Edric.”

 

“Okay,” His sister nods.  Together they take the plates to be washed.  And then they split up to go tackle the others.

 

**oOo**

 

Fretting at how long this is taking, Cassandra grinds her teeth.  “Calm Lady Seeker,” Sir Rylen is sitting on his own plodding horse, seemingly unworried they are getting nowhere fast.  “Let the scouts do their job.  We are gaining, quickly, on the Herald.”

 

Snorting she turns back to the road.  Groups of scouts bunch up and scatter over and over, reading signs she cannot see.  She dislikes being so helpless.  Then all the scouts and Mabari gather on one side of the road.

 

Beech breaks from the group, to jog towards Cassandra, and her irritating second in command, “Lady Seeker, Sir Rylen.  It appears the group were able to find and kill a deer.”

 

“Thank you,” Sir Rylen tells the elven woman.  “That’s a good sign.  We know they had some rations from the merchant Seggrit’s stores.  And fresh meat will help the Herald recover her strength faster.” And he is correct, again.  Cassandra grinds her teeth, again.

 

“There’s more,” Beech is still standing to attention.  “We can see where Serah Solas picked up the Lady Herald.  From this point on, he’s carrying her.  And without her slow pace holding them back, they’ll be moving faster.”

 

“Thank you, Beech,” Cassandra sits up straighter on her horse.  “Please continue.”  The elven woman salutes her.

 

After the scout has left, and they start forward again, Sir Rylen clears his throat, “Lady Cassandra.  It would appear you share another trait with Serah Solas.”

 

“Really?”  She drawls the word out.

 

“Yes, you both wish to protect the Herald.  And apparently, he was as frustrated at the slow pace as you are,” When she whips her head around to stare at him, the man was as calm as ever.  Not one hint of mockery shows.  “Afterall, they were travelling slowly enough for some of the hunters to bring down a deer.”  He has a point, again.

 

**oOo**

 

After breakfast, Solas lets me carry the fruit bowl to the washing area.  I know it’s stupid, but I like being able to help.  Then he brings me to where the casualties are being cared for.

 

There aren’t many.  When he explained how the people carrying off the wounded prioritised humans, over non-humans, it’s a wonder any of them lived long enough to reach Master Adan.  And it makes my blood boil.  How dare they have left anyone simply because they aren’t human.

 

Grateful for any help, Master Adan points out those struggling the most.  While making sure I’m aware I mustn’t over do it.  He’s as gruff as the game portrays him, and he barks his words out.  Utterly intimidated by him, I simply nod, and cling to Solas, letting Solas do all the talking.  Adan walks off leaving us alone.

 

“Here is your first patient,” Solas helps lower me to the ground next to an elven man.  His pale skin is an off colour, sweat matts his brown hair, and his brown eyes are dull. Once I’m down, Solas settles behind me, bracing me, and it lets him talk straight into my ear, “This is Graves.  He is supposed to be one of Leliana’s agents.”  Graves’ eyes widen and he stares at Solas in shock.  “Instead he serves Fen’Harel, as one of his agents.”

 

Oh, shit.  This is one of Solas’ agents?

 

Nodding, I mutter, “Fen’Harel enansal.”  It should mean Dread Wolf’s blessing, if I remember it correctly.  It was a password for something in the game.  I reach my hand out and touch Graves’ clammy wrist with a finger.  Love steps forward, and together, we scan Graves’ body.  He has a lot of injuries.  Some of them are getting infected.  There’s another infection brewing in his lungs.  He’s lost a lot of blood.  And there are several organs struggling to cope.  Love tells me how to explain what I’m doing to Graves, and why I’m doing these things.  Then it gently coaxes me through the steps needed to help Graves.  I’m not allowed to heal the wounds themselves, as I’m still supposed to be recovering, but I can help support his body.

 

One final scan, and Graves’ body is no longer struggling.  Healthy colour has returned to his face, he’s no longer clammy, and his eyes look clear.

 

“Well done my love,” Solas kisses my hair.  Graves screws his face up in disgust.  I don’t blame him, I’m sure my hair is foul.  “Come, there are more who need healing.”  As Solas gently helps me to my feet, I notice Graves has a cool looking bracelet, made of knotted string, with six red beads on it.

 

Pleased with myself at being able to do something for Graves.  I lean on Solas as we go to the next person.  They’re not as bad as Graves.  And they can’t be one of Solas’ agents, as he doesn’t say anything about them.

 

When I’m back on my feet, I almost feel as happy as I did this morning.  Which is when Herah and Malika walk over.  I know my smile has fallen off my face, as I turn pressing closer into Solas’ body.  Their rejection stung a lot more than I realised.  I still haven’t processed it.

 

“Hey Eevee, Solas,” Herah’s bright and bubbly.  Like this morning didn’t happen.

 

“Herah. Malika,” Solas’ voice is scrupulously icily polite.

 

“Ouch,” Herah comes to a stop near us.  “Guess we deserved that.  We did fuck up this morning.”  Huh?  Malika isn’t saying anything, but she’s nodding, frantically, and she’s shaking?  “We’ve had a talk and we’re gonna stop being assholes.  Sorry, we weren’t thinking earlier.  This whole Herald of Andraste thing took a while to get our heads around.  We’re good now.  Aren’t we Malika?”  Herah pushes the dwarven woman forward.  She looks like a deer caught in headlights.

 

A sort of ‘meep’ sound comes out of Malika.

 

“I see,” Solas is looking between the two women.

 

“Hey!” Kaaras calls out behind us.  He bounds over, reminding me of the little elven girl, but bigger, and with horns.  Varric and Edric are trailing along in his wake.  “Fuck.  Herah got here first.  Damn it, I wanted to be the one to apologize to Eevee.”  He looks straight at me, “Eevee, I’m so sorry about this morning.  It won’t happen again.”  He’s so earnest, I give him a little nod.  I don’t completely believe him, but it’s nice he said sorry.  “Thanks.  So Solas, the girls are here to help Eevee, what do you want us to do?”

 

For once Solas seems to be lost for words, then he straightens his back, and goes into ‘Dread Wolf Commander’ mode.  He soon has them scurrying off, coordinating the packing up of the camp.  Leaving us with Herah, and Malika.  Who follow us from patient to patient.  Herah’s chatting with Solas and being helpful.  Malika’s silent and stares at me.  I do my best to ignore her, as I don’t think she’s trying to be mean, a few times she trembles so hard, I get worried she’s going to faint.

 

**oOo**

 

Now Kaaras’ and Herah’s explanations make sense.  Malika had been so blinded by the Herald’s obvious strengths, she hadn’t noticed this; Eevee can’t walk unaided, or at least not well.  Solas is clearly taking the Herald’s weight whenever she sits down by the wounded.  So many other things are making sense too.

 

Shit.

 

The Maker was really testing them this time.  His Blessed Bride, Holy Andraste had been weak as a child, due to a sickness.  Yet, with the Maker’s love, She had grown stronger, leading the first Exalted March, shattering the might of the corrupt Tevinter Imperium, until She was betrayed.

 

His Bride’s Herald was physically weaker still.

 

In front of her, she watches as Solas gently tends to his wife, with care, love, and genuine affection.  Eevee almost glows under his praise.  Surely Andraste Herself must have led this elf to Her Herald.  Who else but Andraste would have paired an elf with a human?  And so successfully.  Love matches were rare.  Ones like this were almost unheard of.

 

Suddenly all the worries of House Cadash pale into insignificance.  Yeah, the Lyrium deal went sideways.  Giant holes in the Veil aren’t something you can plan for.  And yeah, the Dasher’s going to be pissed.  But now the Herald was here. Malika had heard the echoes of His voice last night in Eevee’s words, right after the funeral, and House Cadash, wasn’t going to be found wanting by the Maker.

 

Hands shaking, she starts working with Herah, fetching and carrying.  While the Herald reaches forth, and doesn’t completely heal the wounded, she was still convalescing from mana exhaustion, but every one of the wounded were obviously better, and several steps closer to a full recovery.  Malika can’t believe she’s the one witnessing these healing miracles.

 

To be so close to someone filled with the Divine Blessing of the Maker was nerve-wracking. But the tiny smile Eevee gives her makes her feel like she can fly.

 

Kaaras was much smarter than he let on.  He’d seen straight to the heart of the matter.  Eevee really did like them.  Eevee really did enjoy their company.  And Eevee really didn’t like the company of other humans, because obviously, the Maker was still angry with them, for what they did to His Bride.

 

Starting to relax, she easily falls back into bodyguarding Eevee.  The Herald was so gentle, it was a wonder she didn’t get mugged, by a baby nug.  Protecting her was now up to this new Inquisition.  One Malika realises she’s proud to be a part of.  Automatically she watches everyone.  Measuring them and their actions.  Checking how they move, what weapons they’re carrying.  Across the camp, she notices the Dalish hunter talking with Adan.  Probably to get a contraceptive powder.  The elf was a bed hopper in Haven.

 

**oOo**

 

Thankfully Sir Rylen wasn’t an incessant talker.  This slow pace may grate on Cassandra’s nerves, but they were getting somewhere now.  Even she could tell they were catching up.

 

Around a bend in the road, a knot of scouts and Mabari have formed again.  This time Beech does not come to them, but motions for them to come to her.  Dismounting, Cassandra gives her reins to the closest soldier.  No need to lose one of their few mounts.  Sir Rylen follows her over to Beech.

 

“Lady Cassandra, Knight-Captain,” Beech salutes them.  “We’ve found some very confusing tracks.”  The scout points at the ground.  “Here, the footprints we believe are Serah Solas’, change to a Hart’s.” Moving along a few paces, she says, “Here he lays down.  Next to him are the footprints belonging to the Lady Herald, and extremely large ones, most likely one of the Qunari.”  Pointing at yet another identical part of the road, the elf continues, “Serah Solas then starts off at a fast walk, you can tell by the length of his stride.  We cannot find any more of the Lady Herald’s footprints.”

 

“Meaning?”  Cassandra asks, though she already suspects the answer.

 

All the scouts look at each other, then Beech says, “Serah Solas began carrying the Lady Herald on his back, as he did in Haven.  Yet, there’s something we don’t understand.”  Going to the side of the road she kneels down, “The children, and many of the adults, did not speed up, they kept the same slow pace.”  Coming back toward them, she kneels down, peering at the road, “Yet here, dwarves were running, elves too, the two Qunari simply lengthened their stride.”

 

“They split up?” Sir Rylen asks as infuriatingly calm as ever.

 

“Yes,” Beech confirms it.

 

“Why?” Cassandra mutters to herself.  “Why, after going to all the effort of gathering them, did she then abandon them?”  Glaring at the road, demanding it give her answers, she asks, “Do the tracks of both groups continue in the same direction?”

 

“They do Lady Seeker,” Beech answers her promptly.

 

“Good. Then we shall continue to follow both sets,” Cassandra tells them. Only the tracks break off in different directions will she have to decide which set to follow.

 

Retrieving her reins, she swings onto her horse, and they set out once more.  If the Herald has broken away from the main group, they may never catch up to her.  As a Hart, Solas could carry her a great many miles, at great speed, and for longer than any of their current horses ever could.

 

**oOo**

 

Pressing my left hand to my right shoulder, I let Love guide me through creating the right antibiotics to keep the wound clean.  I’ve seen to all the wounded I can.  The camp is packed up.  We’re ready to go.  And, Malika seems calmer and less freaked out.

 

I don’t understand why the title of Herald is frightening people so much.  But Solas was right.  Several people won’t look me in the eye, and more than one of them looked ready to faint.  “ ** _Peace_** ,” Faith shows up.  “ ** _You are a rare individual who sees that people are people.  They may have titles.  Some are famous across the world.  Others are royalty.  But to you, they are people first and foremost.  To those around you, you are the Herald first, and Eevee second.  You are a sign, an omen_** ,” I don’t feel like an omen.  “ ** _Some will fear you, as they fear the Maker.  Some will be so overcome by your mere presence they will indeed faint_**.”  I’m sharply reminded of the hysteria surrounding some boybands, and their hordes of screaming fans.  “ ** _Similar, yes, yet different_**.”

 

I don’t get it.

 

I’m still a person.  I still shit like everyone else.

 

Solas is wrapping up a few more details, and then we’re off.  He’s off to one side with various team leaders, or managers, or whatever they’re called here in Thedas.  He thinks a few adjustments need to be made to the marching order.

 

Finished with my shoulder, I let my hand fall.  Herah gently wraps her hand around it, tucking it through her arm, like Solas does.  It allows me to shift my weight, letting her take some of it.  “Thank you,” I tell her, as you should always thank your carers, they’re amazing people.  Though I’m still unsure what changed her mind, why she’s helping me, and if I can trust her not abandon me again like she did this morning.

 

“You’re welcome,” She accepts my thanks, and weirdly Malika relaxes even more.

 

I’m never going to understand Thedas, the people here are beyond fucking weird.

 

Kaaras ambles up, dwarves in tow.  Varric and Edric are starting to resemble baby ducks following their mother.  The dwarves settle near Malika.  I do my best to ignore the whispering going on.  Dwarves are strange beings.  Kaaras has none of their weirdness. He simply starts talking to me, and Herah, telling us what’s been going on, and he hands Herah her pack, “I’m not carrying it for you.”

 

They bicker for a bit.  There’s no heat to their voices.  They aren’t nasty.  They’re just giving each other shit.  I wonder what it’s like to grow up in a household like theirs?  They’re so close to each other.  I hope the rest of their family’s the same.  I don’t remember them talking about their parents.  Do they even know how lucky they are to have two such amazing kids?

 

Solas interrupts the adorkable idiots, usurping me from Herah, and settling me against him.  “We are ready to begin.  The scouts are ranging ahead.  They have little to report.”

 

“Serah Solas!”  Adan’s bellow has everyone turning to look at him.  Storming across the ground we used as a camp, his face looks like thunder.  Freezing in place, I quake in my footwraps, as the angry man advances on us.

 

Adan’s not even halfway towards us, when Solas is in front of me, and the others have fanned out in front of us.  Unable to see anything else, I cling to Solas’ back with one hand.  Fuck.  Now what’s wrong?  Did I hurt someone instead of healing them?

 

“Master Adan,” Solas’ voice is polar cold.

 

“Let me through!” The man yells.  “I need to have words with that idiot elf.”

 

“Yeah,” Kaaras draws the word out.  “How about no.  You can stand there and shout.  Or you can calm down.  And we’ll think about letting you through.”

 

“Fine,” Is snarled.  Adan’s so gruff and cranky.  I’m glad I can’t see his face.  “Serah Solas, if you continue to insist on getting your husbandly privileges from your wife, you’re going to hurt her.”  Huh?  What the fuck is he talking about?  Solas stiffens under my hand.  “The Herald isn’t recovered enough to see to her wifely duties.  She needs more time to heal.”

 

“Enough,” Solas snarls.  “Where did you get such a ridiculous idea from?”

 

“So, you deny it?” Adan’s voice gets louder.  “And how else are we to interpret you on top of you wife, both of you panting, and in an undressed manner, this morning, in your tent?”  Seriously what is he talking about?  I tickled Solas.  He pinned me.  We both had clothes on.  “The Lady Herald isn’t ready for sex.  You must control yourself around her.  You can’t simply plough her like a field.  She’s isn’t some bitch you can mount whenever you please.”

 

What.

 

The.

 

Fuck.

 

We weren’t having sex.  We weren’t.  Why the hell does he think we were having sex?  Heat travels up to my face.  Did he really just call me a field?  And a bitch?  Oh my god.

 

All around us people are turning to look.  Listening to this debacle.  They’re going to think we had sex too.

 

“Wait,” Varric’s voice floats over.  “Chuckles and Mouse were having sex?”  Oh god.

 

Adan pounces back on the conversation, “Thank the Maker they were interrupted.  The damage Serah Solas could have inflicted is horrifying.”

 

Interrupted?

 

“Ah,” Solas says.  “Ellana.”  What about her?  She did walk in on us.  But she said it was to tell us about the porridge.  I can see why Joy and Love said not to trust her.

 

“Serah Solas,” Speak of her and she’ll turn up.  She’s going to be as annoying as her racist brother.  “I’m so sorry.  But I had to tell Master Adan.  The Lady Herald, she’s so delicate, so fragile,” She’s making me sound like I’m some kind of china doll.  “And you’re so strong.  We all saw what you did to the human at Haven.  So much raw power from you, when she’s still healing, we’ve all seen how slow, and weak, her steps are when she walks.”  It’s official.  I don’t like her.

 

Under my hand, Solas’ magic swells, there’s a sting to it, like he’s angry.

 

Master Adan’s voice goes a bit softer, “You did good girl.  Coming to me.  You’ve done the Inquisition a great service today.  I’ve no wish to sew the insides of the Herald up.”  He’s getting louder again.  “Because that’s what’ll happen if you bounce around on her, like she’s a filly to be ridden hard, and put away used.”

 

I think I’m going to die of embarrassment.

 

If a rift opened up now, I think I’d jump straight in.  Fuck it.  This is so humiliating.

 

A low threatening growl comes out of Solas, “I would never harm my wife.  Ever.”

 

“You nearly did!” Adan’s yelling again.

 

“Now lets all calm down,” Varric’s using his reasonable tone.  “Chuckles is right, he’d never harm Mouse.  Now, Master Adan, is it your professional opinion, Chuckles, and Mouse, need to wait a little longer, before they resume their marital activities as husband and wife?”  OMG.  Please stop discussing my non-existent love life.

 

“It is,” Adan’s tone is calmer.  “At least a week.”

 

“Well,” Varric’s sounding please.  “Problem solved.  Now Chuckles is aware he’ll hurt Mouse, he’ll refrain from ‘ploughing’ her.”

 

“Master Tethras!” Solas snaps the dwarf’s name.

 

“What?” Varric clearly has a death wish.  “I’m pointing out how respectful, gentle, and kind you are to your wife.  Everyone’s seen it.  Mouse is completely safe with you,” His words sound right, but they have a thread of amusement in them.

 

“I’ve said my piece,” Adan says.  And yes, he’s said his very embarrassing piece.  “I expect you to take heed of it.  I better not be called to sew the Herald up.”

 

“You need not worry,” Solas’ shaking under my hand.  “I have no intention of ever harming my wife.  She is my heart, my world, my life.”  I am?  “If we have finished with this subject?  Perhaps we can begin our march?”

 

No one else seems to want to stick their oar in to stir this shit fest up more.  I let Solas coax me out from behind him.  If I thought my face was burning, he at least has a strip of red across his face, and his ears are flushed.  Clinging to his arm, I’m so glad when we do start walking.  Maybe I can leave this whole thing behind us, and it will simply turn out to be a vivid nightmare, and didn’t really happen

 

**oOo**

 

Their faces were still red at being caught.  Solas was very grumpy, snapping, and sassing people, probably at being forbidden his husbandly rights, all wrapped up with the thought he could have hurt his wife.  She’s just embarrassed, she’s a healer, she should have known better.  She must have been too caught up in the heat of the moment.

 

Edric finds it simply backs up Kaaras and Herah’s lecture this morning.  The Herald was as mortal as the rest of them.  And the attraction between her, and her husband, would be obvious to a blind man.  They’re inseparable.  Always touching. Or looking at each other.  Each so wrapped up in the other, the world didn’t seem to matter.

 

He’s never seen such a perfect love match.

 

Kaaras and Herah had been right about the other thing too.  Now he knows what to look for, watching Eevee walk, highlighted her other problem.  Evaluating her gait, her foot placements, how her hips rolled, he concludes the issue isn’t in her legs.  It’s somewhere in her back.  She doesn’t lift her feet properly.  She does an extended sort of shuffle.

 

He’s known people who’ve injured their backs.  You never knew where the damage would show up.  But how Eevee’s walking?  It’s a perfect example of a back injury.  And if she can’t heal it?  Then it was in the hands of the Maker Himself.

 

Approaching the smouldering remains of the funeral pyre, Edric stares at the spot she’d spoken the Maker’s words to them.  He’d already believed she was touched, that Andraste had picked her, as Her Herald.  But to have it demonstrated so clearly?  To feel the Maker’s gaze on them?  It had been the most amazing and the most terrifying moment of his life.

 

Thank the Maker, Kaaras and Herah were so sensible.  Edric won’t falter in his care of the Herald again.  He, and Malika, still needed to send a message to the Dasher, letting him know how badly the deal went.  Then they’d have to extract themselves out from under the Dasher’s thumb.  But they’ll do it.  How could they not?  They were called to the Maker’s service.

 

“So,” Kaaras is strolling next to Solas.  “Tonight, we’ll put you and Eevee in a bigger tent.  With Herah and Malika.”

 

Solas’ ears twitch, “Why?”

 

Kaaras had said they were supposed to be Eevee’s approved companions.  And it was clear she liked their company.  Edric’s still horrified when Kaaras gives Solas a shit eating grin, “’Cause there’s no way you two are going to last a whole week.”  Solas’ ears snap back against his head.  “Just this morning, Eevee was busy staring at your ass when you went to get water,” The Herald stumbles, thankfully Solas catches her.  “So, we’ll chaperone you.”

 

Herah’s just as bad, “Hey, you need any tips about pleasing Eevee, just let me know.  I have a few tricks guaranteed to hit the spot.”

 

Red has rushed back to the Herald’s face.  Solas is so good with fire magic, he could set the horned idiots ablaze, just with the look on his face alone.

 

“Now, Pup, Jinx,” Varric has thankfully stepped in.  He’ll make this right, “I’m sure Chuckles knows what he’s doing.  In Kirkwall, the elf, Fenris was so good, the Rivaini, Isabela spent a lot of time in his bed.  She’s known to be free with her affections, so the elf had to have something special, to keep her coming back for more.”  Confused Edric stares at Varric, how is this even connected, or helpful?  “Chuckles and the elf are both ex-slaves, from Tevinter.  I’m just saying, there could be something there.”

 

Oh Maker, Varric wasn’t making a joke about Solas’ skills in bed, was he?

 

Apparently, he was.  Kaaras and Herah were laughing.  Eevee’s mouth has dropped open.  Solas’ wrath has swung to Varric.  And then Malika smacks Varric up the back of the head.  Suddenly it’s back to how it was yesterday morning.  They tell less racy stories, to save Eevee’s blushes, and this feels right.

 

A human, an elf, two Vashoth, and three dwarves were walking down a road.  It should be the start of damn good joke.  When he tells them, Varric fishes out a stub of a pencil, scribbling it down, saying it’s a good opening for a book.

 

**oOo**

 

When Beech brings them the next piece of news, it is not good.  “They’ve sped up.  Solas is trotting.  Even the Qunari are running now.”  They could lose the Herald forever.  She could slip through their fingers, and Cassandra will have failed.

 

And then one of their scouts comes running down the road, like a horde of Darkspawn are on his heels.  Skidding to a stop by them, he pants out, “They’re just ahead.  All of them.  They’re back in one group.  Less than a mile away.  Signs they’ve just left a big camp on the road.  Extinguished campfires are still warm.”  Finally, some good news.

 

“And in the woods, the remains of a rift.  Now closed.  Demon blood everywhere around it.  No other blood found there.”  He takes a few deep breaths and carries on, “We also found the remains of a funeral pyre further down the road.  Partial skeletal bones indicate both humans, and elves, on the same pyre.  We’ve pulled back to their old camp.  In case they’ve scouts of their own.”

 

Stamping down her first instinct, of spurring her horse into a gallop, Cassandra nods, “Thank you.  Get your breath back.  Drink some water.”

 

As the scout staggers off to recover from his run, Cassandra turns to Sir Rylen and Beech.  Sir Rylen voices her thought, “This explains why they were in such a hurry.  They were racing to a rift.  Their split with the main group was temporary.”  And then he adds, “In Haven, Serah Solas was very focused on closing the rifts.”

 

“It all fits,” Cassandra says.  “And it means the Herald is recovered enough to close the lesser rifts,” One of the worries discussed at the War Table had been answered, and so favourably.  The Herald could still close the tears in the Veil.  There was still hope for Thedas.

 

“Your orders Seeker?” Sir Rylen is watching her calmly.  Beech is at attention.  Around them, everyone is picking up on their excitement.

 

“In the vanguard,” Cassandra thinks this through.  “Myself, Beech, and you Sir Rylen.  Also, the Mabari and their handlers.  Infill with a few of the calmest soldiers, and scouts, preference is to be given to women.  The rest of the force is to follow slowly, and must keep their distance, until Solas is less defensive.”

 

“Yes, Lady Seeker,” Beech salutes.

 

The Knight-Captain hesitates, “Lady Cassandra?  May I make a suggestion?”

 

She manages to not grind her teeth, “Yes.”  She wants to set out, now.  They are so close.

 

“If Serah Solas refuses to return to Haven,” Sir Rylen says dragging out an unacceptable option.  Solas must return to Haven, because where he goes, the Herald will follow.  “Perhaps we can regain his trust by travelling with him?”

 

“What?” Cassandra does grind her teeth this time.

 

“Serah Solas was fixated on closing the rifts.  This mismatched group has managed to close one already,” Sir Rylen is still infuriatingly calm.  “If we offer to help them search out, and close rifts, we will gain access to both himself, and eventually the Lady Herald.”

 

It could work.

 

“Very well,” Cassandra nods.  “If Solas refuses to return, we will join forces with them.” And with her in charge of their forces in the field, the Inquisition could begin forging across Ferelden, spreading word of their mandate.  Yes, both outcomes would suit the Inquisitions’ needs, begin addressing the chaos in Thedas, and would protect the Herald.  “Any more ideas?”  Both Beech and Sir Rylen shake their heads.  “Then we begin.  We have a Herald to protect.”

 

For the first time, in many days, she feels hopeful.  Surely the Maker was guiding them.  As long as she can hold her temper, nothing could possibly go wrong.


	36. Influence

They’ve found us.

 

Our rear scouts, because those are a thing, spotted them advancing on us.  They’ll be here soon, less than half an hour.  From the descriptions, Cassandra’s leading them, the polite Knight-Captain is with them, as is Beech.  They also have lots of Mabari, so I know how they tracked us so fast.

 

“Go with the others,” Solas is cupping my face, grey eyes with a hint of blue, gazing straight into mine.

 

“No,” I’m terrified.  Running away is an excellent idea.  But I won’t leave.  The thought of leaving Solas, not knowing if I’ll see him again, squeezes my chest like a vise.  “Don’t’ leave me.”

 

“Never,” He yanks me into a fierce hug.

 

“Solas,” Kaaras is standing watching us.  “Eevee has to leave now, with the kids, and the other non-combatants.  Herah and Malika will go with her.”

 

My hands clutch at Solas, trying to get a death grip on him.  Since I’ve woken up in Thedas, Solas’ been the only constant thing in my life.  He’s safe.  He’s home.  I can’t breathe if he’s not here.  “Eevee is staying,” Solas says and I breathe out in relief.

 

“What?”  More than one voice yells at us.

 

“Chuckles, this is a bad idea,” Varric’s expression is grim.  “The Seeker doesn’t ask nicely.  She’s more of a stab first kind of person.”

 

“My wife is staying,” Solas’ voice firms, going into Dread Wolf territory.  “If Cassandra seeks a fight.  She will find more than she can ever imagine.”  I think he’s taking the metaphorical gloves off.

 

Kaaras shakes his head, “Yeah, we all saw what you did in Haven.  And on the mountain.  But right now?  Eevee can’t use magic.  She can’t change her shape to get out of trouble.  Or create unbreakable barriers.”  Shoulders slumping, he adds, “In a fight, Eevee’ll be the way.  Worse, she’ll be a target, who’ll hamper the rest of us.”

 

Ouch.  He’s exaggerating?  Right?

 

Solas snorts, “You underestimate my heart Kaaras.  You see her gentleness, her kindness.  You do not see her indominable will and focus.  She is not without some mana.  Enough for a surprise barrier or two.”

 

“It won’t be enough,” Herah steps up to her brother.  “Without the shapeshifting, Eevee has no mobility in a fight.  She can’t move around the way we can.  We’ve all seen how badly she walks,” What?  I’m practically skipping in this new body.  Haven’t they seen how high I can lift my feet?  I’ve walked way more than I used to be able to.

 

Edric elbows past her to step closer to us, “Solas, we don’t know what happened to Eevee’s back.  But Herah’s right, it impacts on her walking.  We’re all going to be needed if this comes to a fight, we can’t break off to steady the Herald on her feet.  And if she falls over, no one will be able to help her up.”

 

Huh?

 

Wisdom presses close to me, “ ** _They have been observing you, MJ.  In your eyes, you walk well, smoothly, easily.  In their eyes, you do not_**.” But.  I do walk a million times better.  “ ** _And in time, just a few short months, you will be stronger still, more at ease in this new body_**.”  My shoulders slump, I thought I was already doing well, I’ve done so much.  “ ** _And you will do so much more.  Solas is correct, they do not see the real you.  And they are correct to worry for you now.  Thankfully, Cassandra does not wish to fight to gain control of you and the Mark.  Solas will be able to talk her, and her forces, into a temporary alliance.  It will give you both time to usurp those forces for the Inquisition_**.”

 

“Eevee,” Edric comes right up to me.  “I don’t want to hurt you.  But I don’t want to see you hurt either.  Please.  These humans, they aren’t like you.  You can’t trust them.”  He reaches out and touches my arm, “If we’d had more time for you to recover, and you could fight along side us, it’d be different.  You’d protect us, as much as we’d protect you.”

 

Are they right?

 

Will I simply be in the way?

 

“ ** _No_** ,” Valour is right behind me.  “ ** _Your mana is replenished enough for you to fight.  But this battle will be one of wills and wit.  Yours and the Wolf’s, against Cassandra’s_**.” So, I can help?  “ ** _Yes.  And you are not alone.  My brothers of Valour stand with you.  We shall disrupt the opposition.  Wisdom stands ready to lend its counsel.  Love will guide you should magic be required.  Faith will lean against those who dare raise a voice against you_**.”

 

Then I’m staying.

 

Looking right at Edric, I realise I’m not upset he’s touching me.  He’s a man.  And Edric is very masculine in my eyes.  But I’m not afraid of him, not like I’m afraid of Adan.  “I’m staying,” I tell him as clearly as I can.  “I won’t abandon Solas, or you, or the others,” Edric’s close enough I don’t have to raise my voice.  “If it comes to fighting, I will stay out of your way, and I will make barriers to protect you.”

 

For a moment his face falls, then it firms, he nods, “You will be done, Lady Herald.”  Stepping back from me, he gives me the arm across the chest salute.  “May the Maker guide us well today.  I pray we will not require his help in protecting you.”  Above us a rumble of thunder peels out.  Edric’s eyes bulge, then he does a full, down on one knee, bow thing.

 

Solas reaches down to him, touching his shoulder, saying, “Thank you Edric.  Perhaps it will not come to fighting.  The Knight-Captain Sir Rylen was attempting to diffuse the situation in Haven.  He may hold some influence over Cassandra.”  He helps Edric to his feet.  “But if it comes to a fight, they will find the strength of elves, dwarves, and vashoth, united against them.”

 

Neither Kaaras, nor Herah, like this.  They try arguing some more, but the dwarves back Solas up, they seem to feel this is the Maker’s will.  When the Adaar’s do give up, and accept the inevitable, Solas is free to start ordering people around, setting up defences just in case.  He gives them, what he calls, simple battle plans.  I don’t get any of them.  Though Kaaras nods several times.

 

By now we can see the forces sent from Haven.  There aren’t many of them.  Varric echoes my thoughts, “That can’t be all of them.”

 

“I suspect,” Solas says, holding my hand in his, his staff in his other hand, turning us to face them.  “This is simply a vanguard.  The main force will be behind them.  Or, they have sent them through the forest to flank us.”

 

Fuck.

 

This could all go terribly horrifyingly wrong.  These people with me are real.  I cling to Solas’ hand like a lifeline.  I make myself remember how to barrier.  “ ** _I will help you_** ,” Love reassures me.  “ ** _There are more support spells you can do. Such as making the ground under an enemy too slippery to stand.  For now, we will hold in reserve the surprise of you being recovered enough to shapeshift.  And I will help you create and hold barriers that will not break.  Your friends will come to no harm_**.”  I breathe out and ready myself to protect them.

 

All we have to do now, is wait.

 

And wait some more.

 

Then even more.

 

Love talks me through a short meditation, as my nerves are shot, and it helps me stay calm.  Occasionally Solas squeezes my fingers, or gently rubs his thumb against mine.  No one says anything.  No one moves.  It’s like I’m surrounded by living statues.

 

Slowly, oh so agonisingly slowly, Cassandra and her crew get bigger, as they get closer.  She’s leading the way on horseback.  The nice Knight-Captain is off to the left just behind her, also on horseback.  Beech is walking off to the right behind Cassandra.  Why is Beech walking?

 

In fact, I notice all the humans are on horseback.  The only people walking are elves.  Not one elf is on a horse.  Not one human is walking.  Mixed in among the horses are two sets of sweeping antlers.  So, there are Harts here too?  And there are six Mabari.  I recognise one of them as Hamish, meaning the angry man from the Tavern is here too.  Joy.  Not.

 

Getting pissed at them, for making the elves walk, helps me stomp my fear down.  I’ve not noticed such blatant racism in our group.  Yes, Mahanon is a racist dick, but he’s Dalish, so it wasn’t a huge surprise, and he’s changed the words he uses.  The rest seem normal, and willing to accept you as you are.  Even Adan, and Seggrit, treat people as people.  We’ll have to keep an eye on it though.  To make sure it stays that way.

 

They’re so close now I can see Cassandra’s face clearly.  For a moment I think she isn’t going to stop, and she’ll simply walk into us.  But she does apply the brakes, and the horse comes to a stop.  Behind her, all the others come to a stop too.  It’s very synchronised.  Staying on her horse, Cassandra calls outs, “Greetings Solas, Lady Herald Evelyn Trevelyan.”

 

And then silence descends.

 

As we’re in winter there aren’t any crickets chirping.  This feels like a crickets chirping moment.

 

I never knew silence could be so deep, so blanketing, so stifling, I want someone to say something, anything, to break this rising tension.  Beside me, Solas stirs, he also calls, out, “Knight-Captain, it is a genuine pleasure to see you again.  Scout Beech, I am pleased to see you are well.”  He doesn’t mention Cassandra, at all.  And I’m reminded of Haven when I first met Edric.  I wasn’t upset he’d ignored me, I understood why, Cassandra’s face goes full rage monster and she’s grinding her teeth.

 

Sir Rylen’s horse steps up to Cassandra’s.  The man smiles, gives an arm across the chest salute, and replies, “Thank you, Serah Solas. It is a pleasure to see both yourself, and your Lady wife, again.”

 

Solas’ hand has tightened on mine.  “You appear to be leaving Haven.  I find I must apologise, we have yet to completely clear the road of rifts.  I hope they will not cause you any problems on your journey.”  What?  I thought they’d left Haven because of me?  Why is Solas acting like they’re here to do something else?  Or have I misunderstood, and the universe really doesn’t revolve around me?

 

“ ** _Tactics_** ,” A voice barks in my mind.  I fight the urge to straighten my back.  “ ** _I am Command.  And the Wolf is in the early stages of wresting control of the humans from the Seeker, and this Templar_**.”  Its voice reminds me of one of my primary school teachers.  She could walk into a room full of unruly six-year-olds, all running around screaming, and two minutes later, we’d all be sitting quietly at our tables.  I still don’t know how she did it.

 

Cassandra goes a puce colour.  Rylen sits as calmly as ever, “We did pass the remains of a rift that’s been closed.  We noticed no other blood but demon blood.  I had hoped this was a sign there were no injuries incurred by your limited forces.”

 

“Ah, you noticed our team work,” Solas stands a bit straighter.  “Yes, my wife and I, are extremely blessed with such a wide variety of talented individuals.  They are already showing such promise, blending seamlessly in and out of battle, supporting each other.  Not only did they clear the area of demons, allowing my Eevee to close the rift, they did so without injury.  Not even bruises,” He sounds like a proud parent or teacher.

 

Kaaras enters the fray, “Couldn’t have done it without you Solas.  It was your battleplan.  Nice, easy to execute.  You kept us all on point during the fight.  If you ever start your own mercenary group, I’d sign up.”  Cassandra’s face is now going blotchy, the red standing out starkly, brightly, almost glowing.

 

“I will bear that in mind for the future,” Solas tells him.  “First, I hope to close the Breach quickly.  It is a threat to all of Thedas, and as we are the true Inquisition, it is our job to close it.”

 

“Inquisition?”  Cassandra snarls.  Uh-oh I think she’s lost her temper.  There’s a barely there flash of red around her, like a setting sun, catching on her polished armour.  “You are not the Inquisition!”

 

“Yes,” Solas’ voice firms up, a hint of Command wrapping itself around him.  “We are the true Inquisition.  We will follow Divine Justinia’s vision of peace, sweeping chaos from this world, and healing the various lands and peoples of Thedas.”  He’s very inspiring.  He’s hasn’t flinched once at being yelled at by Cassandra, I’d have flinched, or pissed myself.

 

Sputtering in rage, Cassandra looks ready to jump off her horse and kill him.  Sir Rylen does something, turning his horse, so it bumps hers.  His arm shoots out and catches her’s.  He’s talking to her, quietly, I can’t hear what he’s saying, but Solas’ ears twitch.  His ears are much better than mine, he’ll hear every word.

 

The two horses part, and Sir Rylen removes his metal helmet thing, smoothing his hair down, as its sticking up.  “Serah Solas,” The man pauses for a few seconds.  “You seem very certain that you, and those who travel with you, are the Inquisition.  An Inquisition formed from the Writ of her Holiness Divine Justinia V, and entrusted to her Hands, Lady Cassandra, and Sister Leliana.”

 

“Yes,” Solas replies.  “I am certain of this.  Everyone who left Haven with us is a part of the Inquisition.”  A wave of mutterings starts up behind Cassandra.  “Were you interested in joining Knight-Captain?  In Haven you strove to put out fires, not start them.”  Cassandra’s going splotchy again.  I think Solas’ doing this on purpose.  He’s goading her for some reason.

 

Wisdom steps up to me, “ ** _Yes, her temper is a weakness, one easy to exploit_**.”  I guess that makes sense.  I just hope he knows what he’s doing, I’ve seen her fight.  An angry Cassandra is a terrifying sight.

 

Even Rylen’s gone pale, “Ah, Serah Solas.  We appear to be talking at cross purposes.  I’m already part of the Inquisition.  I was recruited by Commander Cullen Rutherford himself.  And I have no intention of leaving.”

 

“Hmm.” Solas looks sad.  “A pity.  You gave such a strong impression of upholding peace.  I apologise, I judged you entirely on your actions in Haven.  But, as you choose to associate with liars, thieves, rapists, murders, and their ilk, you show your true colours.  I rescind my offer of joining the Inquisition.  Thank you for being so honest with me.”

 

Rylen’s eyes narrow, “And where did you get such a strong view of the Inquisition’s forces?  Those are very serious allegations.”

 

“Why Knight-Captain,” Solas sounds surprised.  “Myself, my wife, and all the true Inquisition were there in Haven, as these terrible crimes were committed.  And committed by humans claiming to represent the Inquisition.  Why did you think my wife commanded that we leave?”

 

Snorting, Cassandra re-enters the fray, shouting, “Lady Evelyn’s cowardice in the face of battle, was made clear on the mountain.  Of course, she would run away.”  What?  “She is timid, easily led, spineless, and weak.”  The fuck?  Just because I’m beginning to tremble in my footwraps, doesn’t make me weak.  It just means I hate it when she yells.  “I trusted both of you.  In the Chantry, when the Inquisition was reborn, I was so certain of you.  Instead you turned your back on us and fled.”  She’s acting like we betrayed her.  “You said you would help, that you would stand firm against the chaos, but at the first sign of trouble, you faltered.”  The aura of red around her, it’s getting bigger.  I want to step back from her.

 

Valour presses up against me and I start to see red.  Who the fuck does Cassandra think she is?  Who the fuck does she think I am?  According to these people around me, I still walk like I’m disabled, how the hell am I supposed to fight the way she does?  Fuck her.  And the horse she rode up on.  Because she’s human and not an elf.  Or she’d have been walking.  Now I want to step closer and yell at her.  How dare she speak to us this way?  How dare she judge us?

 

Overhead the sky shakes and rolls with thunder.

 

Beside me Solas’ voice goes icy, “You think my wife a coward?  Simply because of her gentle nature?  Because she embraces peace?  Cooperation?  Helps those in need?  Because she does not reach for a sword, every time those weaker than herself, dare to tell her no?  She has no need to bully, to threaten, or torture others, to get her way.  Look to yourself first, Seeker.”

 

“What he said,” Varric’s got Bianca out, loaded, and pointed at Cassandra.  Red sunlight glints off the tip of the crossbow bolt.  “You’ve no idea how strong Mouse is.  She’s the Herald of Andraste.  The Maker Himself speaks through her.”

 

“And,” Kaaras has his sword out, he’s in a fighting stance.  “If she’s running away.  Why did we close the rift near the road?  Why are her and Solas, protecting all the non-combatants with us?  Instead of shoving them out into the snow, to freeze to death, like you did?”

 

Malika joins in, “Solas, and Eevee, paid Seggrit the moment they got the coin.  And they gave him more, for future goods.  They didn’t steal from him.  They didn’t beat him, or his family, or threaten to rape his daughters, all in the name of the Inquisition,” Her daggers are in her hands.

 

“Eevee’s had mana exhaustion,” Herah’s staff is glowing, white with flickers of red.  “The moment she had enough mana, she started healing the wounded.  She didn’t wait to be asked.  She volunteered,” I did?  I can’t remember, my brain feels fuzzy.

 

Edric’s bow is in his hand, an arrow nocked, ready, “She spoke words over the dead.  She didn’t care if they were human, or elf.  She didn’t need to be paid, to mumble a few trite phrases she didn’t mean.  She gave them respect.  She called to the Maker, so they could go safely to His side.”

 

“You might think you’re insulting her,” A voice calls out from behind me.  Oh god, its Mahanon.  What racist shit is he about to spit out?  “She genuinely doesn’t care.  Your words have no power over her.  Do not be so eager to deal out death and judgement.  Even the very wise cannot see all ends.”  Wait.  I know that quote.  An old man in a grey robe, wandering, but not lost.  “You say she is running away.  You say she is weak.  But she took an arrow for an elf.  And when I pulled the arrow from her shoulder, with Adan, she stayed perfectly still, singing softly.  You do not see her at all.”

 

Did he just say something nice about me?  The world must have ended if Mahanon did that.  And the red fades from me.

 

I’m calmer again, but Solas is pissed, “And who put an arrow in my wife?  Oh, yes, the human scout Isla.  One of your forces.  Who insulted my wife?  Calling her a whore, and threatening to rape her?  A human braggart, bully, and known rapist.  One of your forces.  Again.”

 

Which is when the big, brown, baby boy, Hamish, steps forward with the angry guy next to him.  What shocks me completely, is Finlay dropping to his knees, and in the meekest tone saying, “Serah Solas, Lady Herald, I humbly give you my deepest apologies.”  Taking his helmet off, his red hair shines in the sun, “I have no excuse for my behaviour towards yourself, and your Lady wife.  I throw myself upon your graces and await your judgement.”

 

Silence.

 

Everyone stares at Finlay.  And at Hamish, who lays down next to his partner, and stares straight at me.  Like he understands everything going on around him.  He probably does.  It snaps everyone out of their fighting stances, and weapons are lowered, a little bit.  Flickering auras of red, begin to fade from all of them, even Cassandra.

 

Gently, Solas tugs my hand, and urges me to face him.  He rests his forehead against mine, “Beloved.  His judgement rests in your hands,” What?  Why me?  “You are the Herald.  What punishment will you call for?”  Well that’s pretty obvious.  I want this man gone.  I don’t want him anywhere near me.

 

“ ** _Child_** ,” Wisdom curls around me, a soothing green clearing my head, pushing back the fear and anger.  I can think again.  I can breathe again.  In front of me interconnecting webs spin into view, growing, and twisting around everyone, and everything.  So many connections.  So many paths.  So many outcomes.  What impacts one, can ripple out, impacting many.  Like a single snowflake resting on the side of a mountain, triggering an unstoppable avalanche.  Or a stone thrown into a pond, making waves, a tsunami sweeping everyone away.  Good intentions, imperfectly understood, inevitably twisting to dark endings, due to their inherent flaws.  Mistakes, leading to understanding, to growth, to Wisdom.

 

“ ** _We have seen into this Finlay’s heart_** ,” Wisdom tells me.  “ ** _He does regret his actions.  He sought to protect Hamish.  He misunderstood the situation.  And then he chose the wrong actions to take_** ,” Understatement.  He was going to hurt me “ ** _His temper rules him, he sees this now_**.”  And what?  I’m supposed to believe he can change?  That he’ll want to learn to manage his anger?  “ ** _No.  Nor should you be forced to share his company.  Nor do we counsel forgiveness, else how would he learn?  How would he grow?  How would he teach others?_** ”

 

Huh?  My anger, my fear, at Finlay and his actions, slips through my fingers.

 

I don’t understand.  There’re so many paths in front of me, I can’t keep them all straight in my head.  I can’t see to the end of them.  “Let me help you,” Wisdom tightens around me.  “Let me counsel you.”

 

Yes.  Yes, Wisdom can help me navigate this maze

 

It gives me a few options.  I’d never have thought of any of them.  Every single one of them gives Finlay a chance to atone, to learn.  Its offering him practical redemption twinned with rehabilitation.  It’s up to him now.  Either he takes this chance being offered, and uses it to change his whole life, or I’ll kick him out of the Inquisition, forever.  The Inquisition is going to be the dominant political force soon, we’ll have the reach, and power, to kick bloody hard.  “ ** _Now, MJ, choose.  What path will you lay before Finlay and Hamish?_** ”  Wisdom asks me, and I pick the one I think fits this situation the best.  Looking up at Solas I tell him the path I’ve chosen.

 

Grey eyes with a hint of blue twinkle at me, “Well chosen Eevee.”  One kiss on my forehead, and he turns us to face the kneeling, trembling, Finlay.  “For your actions, my wife offers you three choices.  You may leave the Inquisition forever, to be turned away from wherever it, or its allies, hold power, doomed to wander Thedas unaided, and alone, until death claims you.  Or you may choose to take the grey,” Gasps ring out, and I don’t remember that last bit in the choices Wisdom gave me, or what I said to Solas.

 

On the ground, Finlay lifts his head, he’s crying.  He’s honestly sobbing so hard his body is shaking, there’s tears, and vast amounts of snot.  And through Wisdom’s eyes I can see he’s absolutely terrified.  Solas has only offered him two slow deaths, he’s not mentioned the opportunity for Finlay to change.

 

“Lastly,” Solas’ voice is rock hard, there’s no give.  “There is one more choice, but this comes with three strict conditions.”  In front of me, Finlay is practically face down he’s prostrating so much.  “Your actions in the Tavern were based on your need to protect; in this case, you thought you were protecting Hamish.  Instead, you nearly attacked my wife, the Herald of Andraste,” I don’t need reminding, but Finlay flinches like he’s being physically struck by Solas’ words.  “You allowed your anger to rule you, and in doing so, you almost forsook the Maker.”  A small, tiny, forgotten part of me doesn’t want to feel bad for this man, after what he did to me, I want him gone.  But Wisdom is still curled around me, and its words make sense, not only for me, Finlay, and Hamish, but for all those he could potentially protect, mentor, and reach out to.  One person can make a positive difference in this broken world.

 

“Be thankful my wife is so merciful,” Solas sounds anything but merciful.  “She offers you a place in the true Inquisition, on your acceptance of three conditions.  The first is, you must learn to harness your anger.  It cannot be allowed such free rein.  You must teach yourself control.  If you are ever ruled by your temper again, and seek to attack the defenceless, you will leave the Inquisition, forever, or you will take the grey,” So if he fucks up, and doesn’t choose to grow as a person, he forfeits this chance.

 

Solas continues with, “The second condition is, you will step forward, and offer your protection to all those weaker than you.  Those like my wife, unable to physically defend themselves.  Those with no voice.  Those with no power.  You will offer your protection regardless of race, gender, age, social standing, or religious following.  You will stand against those of the lowest birth, and those of the highest birth.  You will stand against those of no title, and those with the most connected of titles.  None will know the fear, the helplessness, the hopelessness my wife did, because you will protect them.

 

“Your third, and final condition,” Solas’ voice echoes Command, which I can now see is wrapped around him, and has been from the start.  It’s lending him influence, without influencing him.  “You will seek out others like yourself.  Find them.  Teach them to harness their tempers.  Help them control their anger, instead of being controlled by Rage.  Support them, as they learn to grow into their roles as protectors of the helpless.  Reach out, across lands, across races, bring peace through your protection.  Damp the burning fires, don’t inflame them.  Encourage order to flourish and banish chaos.”

 

Finlay’s jaw has dropped open.  He’s staring at Solas like he’s crazy.  At least Finlay’s stopped crying.  Hamish swipes a tongue across his human partner’s face, breaking him out of staring.  “I,” Finlay stammers.  “Serah Solas, you would truly show me forgiveness?  After what I did?”

 

“No,” Solas is matter of fact.  “You frightened my wife, you threatened her.  This clemency is hers, and hers alone.”  Everyone starts staring at me.  Stumbling closer to Solas, I turn my face into his shoulder.  His arms wrap around me.  I’m home again.  Wisdom steps back abruptly, leaving me dazed, trembling, and under no illusion of how much influence it just had over me.

 

“This is the man from the Tavern?”  Cassandra’s pale and shaking.  “Leliana’s people told us the Herald was nearly attacked, but they couldn’t tell us who it was.”

 

“That’s him,” Varric tells her.  “Red heads tend to stick out in a crowd.”

 

“Thank you Varric,” Cassandra’s being surprisingly nice to Varric.  I didn’t think they got on.  Twisting in her saddle, she orders, “Arrest this man immediately,” She points at the still kneeling Finlay.  “He is to be hung for his crimes against the Herald.  I will give the gift of mercy to his Mabari myself, it will not suffer a lingering death.”

 

What?

 

I don’t want Finlay anywhere near me.  But I don’t want him dead either.  Why is Cassandra doing this?  Love wraps itself around me, and I tense, “ ** _Calm. I have no more influence over you, than you have over me.  We are both free_** ,” I relax a little.  “ ** _The Seeker does not believe Solas speaks for you.  She will ignore all your choices, and the choices you have offered Finlay.  She will hang him.  She will use her sword to strike Hamish down,_** ” Why?  What’s Hamish done?  “ ** _He is a Mabari.  When Finlay is dead, Hamish will pine, slowly.  There is a strong possibility he will go mad with grief and will need to be put down.  The Seeker offers the Mabari what she considers mercy to be_**.”

 

This is wrong.  What Cassandra is doing is wrong.  Okay, if I hadn’t been under Wisdom’s influence, it’s doubtful I’d have offered the idiot a chance to join the Inquisition.  Humans in armour grab Finlay’s arm, dragging him to his feet.  They’re really going to do this?  No trial, no deliberation, and no questioning of orders?

 

“Seeker Cassandra!”  Solas holds me tightly against him.  “The Herald has rendered her judgement on this man.  By what right do you dare to interfere?”

 

Someone’s just thrown a rope over the branch of a tree.  And an unprotesting Finlay is being led over to it.  Hamish is protesting.  A bunch of humans with big shields, are making a wall of their shields, and begin surrounding the snarling Mabari.  Cassandra gets off her horse, pulling her sword.

 

“Seeker!”  Solas yells again.

 

She ignores him.

 

“Chuckles!”  Varric’s got Bianca back up and ready.  “What are we doing?”

 

Oh god.

 

This is happening.

 

They’re really going to hang a man right in front of me!  No, not hang.  Lynch.  They’re going to lynch him.  They’re going to murder Hamish too!  I want them to stop!  If I have to accept Finlay into the fucking Inquisition to stop this, I will, I’ll do it, I’ll accept him.

 

Wisdom swirls around me, displacing Love, and I can see the pathways again.  “ ** _Child.  I did not show these paths to you, nor offered you counsel, to make you my puppet.  There is no bargain to be made between us.  There never was.  And there never will be.  I will show you choices, and the consequences of those choices.  But the choices themselves?  They will always be yours to make._** ”

 

Overhead the sky goes dark.  Clouds race towards us.  Wind whips past us, scattering snow from tree branches.  Lightning arcs, dancing in the growing anvil shaped thundercloud.  Teeth rattling thunder deafeningly crashes through us.  And it might be winter, but the temperature noticeably drops, to the point breathing hurts.

 

Everyone freezes.  Except the Knight-Captain.  He leaps off his horse and scrambles to Cassandra’s side.  Crashing into her, he starts talking into her ear.  Hamish shakes himself and turns whining pitifully to me.

 

“What!”  Cassandra yells.  “You cannot be serious!”

 

Rylen’s nodding so hard I think he’s head’s about to come off.  And he starts talking again.  Cassandra’s face has gone blotchy again.  Beech hurries over and they go into a huddle.

 

“Shit,” Varric’s staring straight up at the sky, then he stares at me.  Oh god, he’s just started talking to me again.  “Shit,” His breathes steams in the air and he starts to shiver from the killing cold.

 

“Release him!”  Cassandra yells, putting her sword away.

 

There’s some confusion among the humans, but Rylen strides over to them.  He’s soon got the shield bearers away.  And gotten Finlay released.  He even leads the man over to us, Hamish frolicking next to his human partner.  Rylen gives the arm chest salute, “As per your instructions Serah Solas.  This man’s fate is yours.”

 

“His Fate is not mine,” Solas corrects him.  “My wife has offered him three paths.  He must choose his own fate now.”

 

“Lady Herald,” Finlay’s pale as a sheet, shaking, and once Rylen lets him go, he drops to his knees.  “If you believe me worthy of your forgiveness.  I embrace it willingly.  I will do all in my power to conquer my anger, to protect everyone, to help others with their anger.”  And he’s back to crying.  Hamish woofs a few times, clearly happy, and I’m glad I could help the big, brown, baby boy.

 

Above us the sky begins to clear, winter sunlight filtering down chasing away some of the cold, and the wind drops again.  Wisdom gently untangles itself from me.  Sagging against Solas, I let him hold me up.  My legs are shaky, my knees are threatening to go out from under me.  I want to throw up.

 

“Can we leave yet?” I ask Solas.  I think I should have left with the children.  I’m not cut out for this confrontation thing.  I should have let Solas handle it.  I should never have insisted on staying, they were right, I got in the way.

 

“ ** _Perhaps_** ,” Wisdom stands next to me.  “ ** _Or perhaps both paths were wise and unwise.  The consequences of this path, one you choose, will have repercussions, some positive, some negative.  You will have to wait and see what they will be_**.”  It pats me on my right shoulder, “ ** _When you are healed.  We will begin more serious lessons.  You must learn to block the innate power of persuasion of Spirits_**.”  My right shoulder throbs, right where the arrow was, “ ** _And soon_**.”

 

“We are leaving,” Solas says loudly.  I don’t protest when he swings me up into his arms.  I just wrap my left arm around his shoulders clinging to him, burying my face in his neck, and let him take over.  He holds me close and I’m glad of his hug monster ways.  I need the hugs right now.  I really don’t handle violence or confrontation well.

 

“What about them?”  Kaaras asks.  I don’t bother looking.  I’m too busy remembering all the times I spoke to Spirits and then made fucking stupid choices.  The arrow in my shoulder being the most obvious one.

 

“They may follow if they choose,” Solas dismisses whoever ‘them’ are.  “They are no longer our concern.  Come, we have rifts to close, the Divine’s murderer to find, and many lands to heal.”

 

Familiar rocking lets me know he’s started walking, so I let myself relax, safe in his arms.  When Wisdom, who’s walking next to me, asks, **_“Child.  Do you still believe Spirits and Demons are so very different from each other?_** ”  No, no I don’t.  The rage and anger I felt with Valour, the way I felt when Wisdom wrapped itself around me, the memories have me shivering.  “ ** _Good, you have learnt a hard lesson today.  The difference between Spirits and Demons is almost non-existent. Be more careful with your trust.  Of those you have met so far; myself, Love, and Faith will not accidently take your choices from you.  In their zeal, and caught in the moment, those like Valour, and Joy, may underestimate their strength, causing you harm_**.”  Nodding, I take its advice to heart, I think I’m going to be avoiding Spirits for a while.

 

There’s so much to learn here in Thedas.  And so little time.  We’ve left Haven, we’ll be heading for the Hinterlands, then the shitty Chantry talk, then we have to pick a side, Mage or Templar.  Boom, one Breach closed, and the big bad turns up. And so on and so forth.  In the game you had just two years, until the absolute final battle, under the re-opened Breach.  Then two years until Trespasser, and the Exalted Council, turning on the Inquisition.

 

Tonight, Solas and I really are going to have to some serious discussions.  One of the things blatantly obvious from the pathways Wisdom showed me, is that I’m simply reacting to Thedas, and to a point so is Solas.  We’re not being proactive.  We’re letting everyone else dictate to us.  Influence us.  Until we can sort this out, make more solid, but adaptable plans, we’ll always be on the backfoot.  And people like Cassandra, aren’t going to take us seriously.  There’s only so many times the Spirits can make thunderstorms, before people stop being impressed.

 

No.

 

We need a better plan.  One we both understand.  One we can both stick to.  And make stick here in Thedas.

 

And another thing.  Not once did Cassandra or Rylen ask how I was.  My right arm is still in a sling, my shoulder is bandaged, and they didn’t say a fucking thing.  Edric was right, I can’t trust these humans.


	37. Campfire Reflections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for being absent for so long. I've recently been made redundant and I've found a temporary job, but, it comes with a very long commute, no access to writing at lunch, and I've been trying to learn some complex and incompatible systems (why do companies feel the need to buy software that is so user unfriendly?).  
> Thank you so much for sticking with me. You really are the most amazing people. And here is at least a little something.  
> Hope you are all well, and please take care of yourselves.

Solas carried me in his arms until we stopped for lunch.  Then Kaaras and Herah offered to carry me.  Solas got quietly cranky, so they compromised, he changed into a Hart, with me on his back.

 

Riding Solas is easier this time.  He’s going so much slower.  No pressure to get to a rift and close it.  I was right, I could get used to this.  He’s comfy.  He’s not going to bolt off with me.  I’m safe here.

 

It helps the only Spirit near me is Love.  All the others have left me alone since earlier.  And I’m glad for the distance.  I really need to learn how to be around them safely, I hope Solas can teach me.  Love turns out to be very good as a sounding board, it encourages me to follow my thoughts all the way through, and it’s willing to pitch in to untangle ideas.  There’s a lot to untangle in my head.

 

I know Solas and me have lots to talk about, but I’m fucked if I know what most of it is.  If we were on Earth, I still wouldn’t have a clue.  As this is Thedas, which is weird on a good day, I have even less of an idea.  I don’t know how to fake being a holy figurehead, of a religious organisation, called the Inquisition.  It makes me feel like I’m the leader of some cult, brainwashing people, and conning them into believing in a god I don’t believe it.

 

Frankly I don’t know how to be any kind of leader, apart from a bad one.  I’ve spent most of my life in care.  Okay, sure, I could have pushed to do more.  There were always such inspiring people on the TV, nothing held them back.  Maybe I should have given more back, done more in my life, but I liked chilling with Baron.  When I had bad days, he never looked down on me, he just curled up with me.

 

Today is a good example of bad leadership.  Okay, I’d never have offered Finlay a place in the Inquisition, without Wisdom doing what it did.  But I offered him the choice.  And Cassandra walked all over my offer.  She didn’t believe Solas spoke my words for me.  A good leader should be able to communicate with people.  Instead of shutting down, going quiet, and failing to get even a squeak out.  Solas is good at communicating, but all people like Cassandra are going to see, is an elf, when they need to see the Inquisitor.  Thank god, he’s the one who is really going to be in charge.

 

Right now, Finlay’s being carried on a stretcher.  He keeps fainting.  People keep whispering and pointing at me when he collapses.  I have no idea what bollocks they’re inventing for this.  But I’m worried they’ll pull a repeat of this morning.  Varric and the others have only just started talking to me again.

 

Upset at being abandoned, I let Love distract me, with listing the differences between fantasy elves and Thedas elves. I’ve grown up on high fantasy, filled with tall noble elves, and tales of their unearthly grace and beauty.  I have to say Thedas elves are graceful, and most are pretty, if weird.  I daren’t stare at them openly.  All their dimensions are off, my brain can’t seem to wrap itself around the differences.  So, I’ll stare at Solas, he won’t take offense, and he’s fascinating to watch.

 

Sneaking glances at Herah, and Malika is easy, they’ve both stepped up as auxiliary carers.  Dwarves are built solid, in a way I can’t describe, it’d be like trying to describe the ground under your feet, no, not the ground, the whole planet.  There’s a strength there, a power, though they don’t pull my eyes the way Solas does.  If Herah is a typical Vashoth, I can see why the Qun held most of Thedas to a draw, before the treaties brought peace.  She’s a cross between an elf and a dwarf.  Her dimensions are longer than a human’s, but the solidness is there, with a hint of wildness, and a raw something I can’t put my finger on.  Her horns remind me of a high dragon, I don’t get why Thedas seems to think they’re ‘Oxmen’, there’s nothing bovine about them.  Not that oxen aren’t dangerous, they just aren’t Herah, or Kaaras.

 

As we’d walked off earlier, the humans simply followed us.  They’ve been keeping their distance, and they’ve stuck to our pace.  When we stopped for lunch, they milled about, stopped, and ate a bit.  Then they went back to following us.  Love’s already relayed a message from the other Spirits.  Cassandra and Rylen are trying to work out what to do next.  They’re baffled by this morning, and the offer made to Finlay.

 

Urgh, Theads is fucking weird.  And humans are even weirder.

 

Which still isn’t helping me come up with a list of what Solas and I need to talk about.  I do know we need to move from being reactive, to proactive.  We need to somehow get the initiative back on our side.  As long as we’re on the back foot, we’re fucked.  Thedas is proving itself to be a seriously brutal place, I don’t think it’ll give much room for error.  We have to get this right from the start and build from there.

 

But how?

 

Corypheus has proven he’s all over the proactive mindset.  You don’t get more murderously proactive than he’s been.  Destroying the Temple of Sacred Ashes itself.  Murdering the Divine, and most of the higher ups in the Chantry.  Wiping out the Mage, and Templar, leaderships, leaving them ripe for take overs by the Venatori and an Envy demon.  Those few Mages and Templars uninterested in the main groups will simply go back to fighting an unwinnable war, dragging the rest of Thedas in with them.  Then there are the Warders, sworn defenders of Thedas, against all things Darkspawn, and Blighted.  Yet they’ll fall to one of the first Darkspawn, turning themselves into a demon army under his command.

 

That doesn’t touch on the lands of Thedas itself.  Ferelden is still recovering from the last Blight, with added twists of Carta, and Venatori, paying mercenaries to destabilise areas, for them to either smuggle Lyrium, or simply sow chaos.  Orlais will be embroiled in a civil war, grinding their people into the dust, as Corypheus’ puppets con themselves into thinking they’ll be handed power.  I dread to think what else he’s got lined up, what other plots are being spun out there.

 

God, I hope Solas thought about all of this before he turned back time.  I don’t think I’m going to be any help when it comes to brainstorming for all this.  Love disagrees and thinks I’ll be able to come up with some good ideas.  I’m convinced it’s just an optimist.

 

Being up so high, gives me an uninterrupted view of what’s going on. I spot the campfires before we reach them.  We’re camping in the road again.  All the work groups Solas made are scurrying around.  From here I can see some of them gathering snow and putting it by fires.  Is that how we’re getting water?

 

We’re diverted to an area, where Solas stops, and Herah pulls me off his back.  This time she does put me straight down.  Getting my feet under me, I’m surprised when Malika comes up to my other side, with a smile.  Does this mean they won’t shun me again?  I keep my mental fingers crossed and hope for the best.

 

**oOo**

 

His Heart has been quiet all day.

 

Even for her she has been less than talkative.  It would worry him, if Love were not with her, and he did not know her so well.  She has retreated into her own head to think.  Though this retreat has caused the others to worry for her.  They see how badly she handles violence and think her weak.

 

They will learn.

 

And she will learn.

 

Though he wishes she did not need to learn how to handle violence.  He would prefer she never learns such a lesson.  But this is Thedas, and while he is powerful, he cannot save her from this lesson, no one can.  His plan is to slow the lesson, allowing her to absorb it in smaller pieces, so it does not hurt her as much.  He must teach her, gently, the art of fighting, of killing, and twisting it all up in defending others.  This time, her first kill must be one of defence, preferably the defence of someone helpless and weak.  To help her deal with the guilt from the act of killing another person, he will give her the balance of saving a life.

 

Last time, her first kill had been Kayne.  After her rape at his hands, and the others of his group, the Inquisition had done nothing.  MJ had fretted for weeks.  Even stood up to Cassandra and Cullen a few times, about their lack of action.  In the end she had come to him, asking him if he knew a way out of Haven, and then if he would travel with her.  They had readied their supplies in secret, then an hour before they were to leave, she’d vanished.  His agents later told him, she’d walked up to Kayne, and set on him fire.  Her first kill had been one of revenge, and fear, of the helpless backed into a corner and forced to defend itself.  It had broken so much inside of her.

 

It will not happen again.  This time he was able to avenge her, and protect her, at the same time.  Kayne died at his hands.  Or will die at his hands, eventually.  Solas had been very careful with the wounds he’d inflicted, the man will die, slowly, painfully.

 

MJ must be carefully managed.  To allow her to fight, to kill, without it damaging her.  Without it taking away her easy smiles, and her laughter.  Such gifts he never even knew existed before he’d turned time backwards.

 

Reluctantly, he leaves her in Herah and Malika’s capable hands.  He goes to sort the finishing touches of setting up their camp.  Thankfully their camp was still small, so he can keep her in sight, at all times.  It means he can continue to observe, no only her, but everyone else too.

 

Something happened this morning.  Something which has changed people’s views of her.  Varric was acting exactly as he had after the fall of Haven.  Many other elves and dwarves were already following suit.  Then suddenly they were acting out of character.  Every clue points to Kaaras and Herah.  They were the ones to apologise to MJ.  They led the others in resuming their care of MJ.

 

With the Judgement of Finlay ending the way it had, he was expecting them all to step back from MJ, again.  Venerating her as the Herald of Andraste.  Instead, they, and many of the breakaway Inquisition, were stepping closer to her.  All while bowing to her, and respecting her, as the Herald.

 

At lunch they had hovered, gently, and watched his Heart struggle to eat even a few bites of food.  The power of the Evanuris was already beginning to sustain her.  MJ’s lack of appetite wasn’t just linked to the violence, and confrontation, she’d been part of, but to her growing strength as well.  She’d needed to empty her bladder, when she’d woken in the cabin in Haven, but has not needed to since.

 

It would not be long now, until she no longer needed to eat, or even sleep.  They would instead become things she chose to do.

 

Behind them, the humans were also settling down for the night.  He had told the truth earlier, he was pleased about Beech.  She will be able to report much to him.  Then he can tell his Heart, giving her enough information, to allow her to gently steer them all.

 

He is much less pleased with Cassandra being here.  His anger at the human is clouding his reasoning.  He should have handled the confrontation more wisely.  He is well aware his Heart will change everyone.  Cassandra is no more immune to her influence than he is.  But as he revels in his victory over Kayne, he finds it hard to hold back from exacting revenge on Cassandra.  He remembers what she did to MJ the first time.  And he remembers who she did not protect MJ from; Leliana.

 

Glancing up, he can see Herah attempting to coax MJ into a conversation, and failing.  His Heart was still grappling with her own thoughts.  He turns back to his task of ordering the camp.  As soon as he’s finished here, he can return to her, he longs for her to be close to him.  He must protect her and care for her.  He cannot lose her.


	38. Wisdom, Pride, and Pride

Yep, Thedas is weird.

 

Solas has put me, the wounded, the kids, and their parents in the middle of the camp. Then there’s a ring of other non-combatants. Finally, we’re surrounded by the people with weapons.  And people seem to think I’m being generous protecting the wounded, the kids, and their parents, followed by the other non-combatants.  It wasn’t even my idea.

 

I dread to think what the normal Thedas attitudes to these vulnerable groups are.

 

After he’d finished setting up the camp, Solas came back to me, and we settled down for some food. Adan came and inspected our new bigger tent, then dragged Herah and Malika off to one side for a ‘talk’.  I dread to think what he’s saying to them.

 

There’s a lot of things I’m dreading to think about in Thedas.

 

Thankfully I’ll be able to escape into the Fade with Solas soon. I’ll feel better when we’ve had a chance to talk, and plan, and get ahead of this messed up curve.  I have no idea what I’m doing, it’s like I’m flailing around uselessly, and I really don’t like it.

 

With no TV, radio, or internet to distract us, we’re forced to interact with each other around our campfire. Meaning I sit next to Solas, cuddled up to him, and the rest of them talk complete and utter bullshit to each other.  Varric tells the tallest tales, Herah’s not far behind him, while Malika and Edric team up to take third place.  Kaaras just heckles, nicely, from the side lines.  I’ve watched so many programs where groups of people do this, just hang out, and do the equivalent of shooting the breeze, it looked like fun.  It is sort of fun, it’s also tiring.  Being around so many people is draining.

 

“Vhenan?” Solas’ hand cups my face, tilting me to look at him.  “Ah, you are tired,” His eyes soften at me.  “Come, we will go to bed.”  I’m an adult.  I have successfully adulted as much as my body would let me all my life.  Normally, I’d decide when I go to bed, but I am tired, and I do need some alone time, with Solas, in the Fade.  I let him pull me to my feet and lead us over to our tent.

 

It’s a little awkward when Malika and Herah join us, and the tent isn’t that big. I end up in the middle of the tent, on my left side, Solas spooning me from behind.  Malika’s right in front of me, we’re practically nose to nose, and Herah’s on the other side of her.  It’s very claustrophobically close in here.

 

I don’t like it.

 

I really don’t like all these people being so close to me. Thankfully Solas is here so I’m not alone with them.  But I can’t relax.  “ ** _Let me help you sleep_** ,” Love offers.  “ ** _You will soon be in the Fade, far away from this_** ,” It has a point.  But I’m still uncomfortable with the two women being so close to me.  “ ** _Ellana has done this deliberately, she seeks to drive a wedge between you and Solas_** ,” Yeah, she just so happened to intrude on us playing tickle and she set Adan on us.  “ ** _Sleep and this night will pass quickly_** ,” I really don’t want them touching me.  I know Herah’s lifted me off Solas, and carried me to the Rift, and let me lean on her, but sleeping and touching is different.  “ ** _They will not touch you in your sleep, I will watch over you_** ,” Love is so awesome.  Just knowing it’s watching over me helps me relax so it can send me off to sleep.

 

This time I feel myself fall asleep. So, when I open my eyes, I’m expecting to find myself in my living room, or my bedroom.  I’m not expecting this.

 

I’m sitting on a big moss-covered stone, surrounded by grass and outcroppings of more stone. Off to one side is a slow moving river, beyond that are high jagged hills like fat fingers of stone sticking up.

 

I know this place.

 

It’s familiar for some reason.

 

There’s also a strange green mist hanging over and around everything. Almost a tinge of green smearing the colour palette of this area.  Warping this familiar place into something else.

 

Above me should be a sky. Instead there are twisting ribbons of green.  They remind me of moving green rivers, all of them flowing in different directions, criss-crossing each other, tumbling, winding, and I have to tear my eyes away as I get dizzy.

 

“ ** _Interesting_** ,” A deep voice says, sending chills down my back.  Turning my head, I see a huge pride demon standing on the stony bank of the river.  It wasn’t there earlier.  “ ** _Most cannot see the sky as you do_** ,” Its voice is wrong.  It sounds pleasant, most people would like this voice, but there’s something scratching at me, clawing at my memories.  I’ve heard voices like this before, nice, trustworthy voices, and then they start to chip away at you, making you doubt yourself, making you wonder, did my father really do that to me?  And worst of all, they make you wonder if it was all your fault, you are the victim, but what did you do to make your father do that to you?

 

Stumbling backwards off the stone, I back away from the giant demon. I’m not supposed to be here.  I need to leave.  “ ** _No, stay a while MJ_** ,” It holds a hand out to me.  “ ** _I won’t hurt you_** ,”

 

I’m not interested in what it’s selling.

 

Now how do I get out of here? I need to get back to Solas.  Didn’t he say something in the game about imagining, or thinking, where you want to go, and you’ll go there?

 

“ ** _Calm yourself child_** ,” Wisdom appears from nowhere and jumps up on the rock I vacated.  It sits its little furry bottom down and curls its tail around its paws.  “ ** _I pulled you to this place for reasons you will discover_**.”  Huh?  “ ** _This area of the Fade belongs to Pride. Many of the weaker denizens here owe fealty to it_**.”  They do?

 

“ ** _They do_** ,” Pride nods and sort of stands up taller.  Its hands go behind its back, and there’s something familiar about the way it’s standing.

 

Part of me wants to edge closer to Wisdom, for protection. But the bigger part of me wants to edge away from Wisdom, because of what happened earlier.  I really don’t want to go through that again.  And it gave me a better understanding of why people are so afraid of Spirits and Demons.

 

“ ** _Good_** ,” Wisdom says nodding.  “ ** _Though my lesson was harsh, it will serve you well, here in Thedas.  And now you have more lessons to learn_** ,” It turns its head to look behind me.  “ ** _My kinsman has already caught your scent and hurries to reach your side_** ,” Solas?  Does it mean Solas is coming?  “ ** _Yes, please do not speak his name out loud, he will reach you faster, and there is much you must learn, and we have little time left for you to learn_**.”

 

Why wouldn’t there be time?

 

And then I remember why this place is so fucking familiar. This is the place in the Dales the mages capture Wisdom, force it to kill, and turn it into a Pride demon.  This is the place Solas kills his friend.  We never get the chance to save it in the game.  We always fail.  And Solas always grieves, sending him further down the ‘destroy the world’ path.

 

“ ** _Well done_** ,” Wisdom looks over to the spot the summoning stones will be.  “ ** _Though perhaps there are some truths you should be aware of. The summoning spell the mage used called the strongest demon who claimed this area to do their bidding_**.”  What?  I re-run its words through my head.  And I find myself staring at the pride demon standing by the river.  It’s not doing anything, just standing there, hands behind its back, every inch of its bearing is arrogant and strangely compelling.  And Wisdom said Pride claimed this area.  And that the spell cast should have called the demon who claimed this area.  So why did Wisdom end up in the summoning circle instead?

 

“ ** _Interesting_** ,” Pride nods at me.  “ ** _You are able to listen_** ,” Wow, condescending much?  “ ** _So, if two pieces of information, which are true, contradict each other, which piece do you choose?_** ”

 

Not listen to anything a pride demon says? Instead, I look to Wisdom to confirm, or deny, what I know.  “ ** _Pride is quite correct in this case_** ,” It tells me.  And that’s no help to me at all.

 

It still leaves me with Wisdom being summoned, and then dying. While Pride is supposed to be the one who should have been summoned.  I don’t get it.  It’s like one of those annoying puzzles in games that trips everyone up, and people end up rage quitting, it just doesn’t make sense.  “ ** _I like games!_** ” Joy suddenly appears, bumbling over its own paws like the kitten it isn’t.  “ ** _She’s here! I found her!  I win!_** ”  It calls behind it.

 

A ripple, like someone shaking a see through sheet, passes over the scenery. And then a giant black paw lands behind me, shaking the ground. I don’t even come up to the top of the paw.  “Vhenan!”  Thunders from so far above me, all I can see is a looming living shadow, with burning red staring down at me.

 

“Solas?” Please dear god be Solas.

 

“I have found you!” And the big black thing starts to shrink, growing smaller, its shape coalescing into a giant black wolf, with six red eyes, who is still bigger than me, but at least I come up to his shoulder now.

 

“ ** _NO!_** ”  Joy interrupts.  “ ** _I found MJ! I won the game!  I solved Wisdom’s misdirection!_** ”  The small grey kitten headbutts one of the giant black paws.  Instead of bouncing back off of Solas’ paw, Joy actually staggers Solas, making him take several steps back.

 

“Ah, my apologies Joy,” Solas says, shaking himself. “I misspoke.  You did indeed win the game I suggested.  You did find MJ.”  Stepping closer again, he lowers his muzzle to the tiny grey kitten, and then gives it a quick lick, “You did well.”

 

“ ** _Yay_** ,” Joy bounces over to the rock Wisdom is on, and then jumps up.  Which is yet another clue it’s not a real kitten, no kitten could have done that.  “ ** _I solved your puzzles!_** ” It bumps into Wisdom, knocking the black cat over, and sending Wisdom sprawling.  “ ** _They were fun!_** ”

 

Picking itself up, Wisdom shakes out its body, “ ** _So you did_**.”  Looking over at the big, black, six eyed wolf, Wisdom says, “ ** _I did not expect you to enlist Joy’s help in finding MJ so quickly. You put aside your pride much faster than you have in the past_**.”

 

Pride? There’s something about the pride demon and Solas that’s familiar.  My head goes back and forth, like I’m at a tennis match, staring at their faces.  “MJ is worth more to me than my pride,” Solas says, stepping closer to me, and his fur is soft and warm.  Though it does block a clear view of his head.

 

“ ** _Little brother_** ,” Pride says, but its staring at me.  “ ** _You would value your own self less than this woman?_** ”

 

“This woman,” Solas counters with. “Is my heart.  She is worth a thousand of me.  Or a million of you.”  Ouch, I don’t think Solas likes Pride.  At this point my brain decides to send me a small reminder, Solas in Elvhen is a word meaning a type of Pride.

 

“Huh,” I stare back at Pride, noting it’s still standing with its hands behind its back. Its eyes are arranged a particular way on its face.  And it is fairly condescending and arrogant in its attitude.  Picking up my feet, carefully, the ground is uneven, I move away from Solas so I can see his face.

 

“Ma lath!” He lowers his snout to me, giving me an excellent view of his face, and his eyes. All six of them.  All red, and positioned on his face, just so.  From here I don’t have to turn my head so much to see the pride demon.  My brain also handily remembers the temple in the desert oasis was called Solasan, which meant it was the Temple of Pride.

 

“ ** _Very interesting_** ,” Pride says cocking its head in a familiar way, because Solas does the exact same thing, in his elvhen shape.  My mind helpfully supplies other snippets of game lore.  Things like the Forbidden ones, and how they gave up their bodies to become spirits.  And snippets Cole says about Solas himself, which made for some very interesting fan theories of Solas once being a spirit.

 

“Beloved?” Solas changes his shape, and comes to me, to pull me into a hug. Which I happy snuggle into, he’s so damn good at hugging.  Seriously, who knew hugging was this much fun?  And this comforting?

 

“You were a pride demon, or spirit, or whatever Fade dwellers should be called,” I blurt out amazed I’ve not realised this before. It’s kind of obvious when you finally look.  And I must be right because Solas flinches, his hands tightening on me.  It also explains a lot of his behaviour, if he is, or was, Pride, then his factory default setting is going to be prideful, arrogant, and condescending.

 

“ ** _Yes, little MJ, he began as the merest of wisps, as did we all_** ,” Pride steps closer.  “ ** _He was found by the one who pulled him through and made Love his mother_**.”  Okay, I don’t understand most of what it just said.  Though Solas has flinched a few more times.  Is this topic triggering for him?  “ ** _He fears your rejection. He fears you knowing he was once as I am_**.”  Why?

 

“ ** _He’s forgotten_** ,” Joy looks up at me, it’s holding two jigsaw puzzle pieces in its front paws.  “ ** _You loved Cole. You accepted Cole.  And Cole was once Compassion who would become flesh_**.”

 

I am officially beyond lost.

 

There is only one thing I’m sure of, this topic is not a good topic for Solas. He’s actually shaking in my arms.  The only time he’s done this was when Rose was brought up.  “Okay, change of subject,” I try and make my voice firm.  Even though it was me who started this in the first place.  Damn, I’m really going to have to be more careful.  I curl my own hands in Solas’ clothes, holding him tightly, and wonder how to get us both back to my living room, without any more encounters.  Solas needs peace, and quiet, to recover from this triggering.  And I will give him a safe space, somehow.

 

“ ** _I concur_** ,” Valour stalks into view from nowhere.  “ ** _His emotions call to Despair and Fear. A safe refuge is a sound strategy_**.”  It’s bigger than it was in my living room.  Its more lioness sized here, probably because there’s more space for it.  I also need it to keep its distance from me, I don’t make good decisions if it’s too close.

 

“ ** _Also interesting_** ,” Pride is even closer than it was.  “ ** _Strange that Valour calls your rage so easily to the surface. You would do well to learn to control such a side effect_** ,” No.  Really?  I’d never have guessed.  I really hope it can pick up the sheer amount of sarcasm in my head right now.  It laughs, “ ** _Oh, I can little MJ. And I will let you go, freely, with no fight offered, to care for your little Wolf, if you can answer the earlier riddle_**.”  Huh?  What earlier riddle?

 

“There will be no bargain,” Solas starts untangling us from the hug, and starts to push me behind him. “I am strong enough to break us both free of your hold Pride.”

 

My eyes are drawn to Joy, who is sitting on the rock, still playing with a jigsaw puzzle. A box is propped up near it, the picture is of Wisdom as the pride demon, trapped in the summoning circle.  The real Wisdom is also on the rock, watching Joy play.

 

And suddenly I know the answer to Pride’s earlier riddle, “Why would I choose either of them? They’re both true.  If,” I stress the word. “I chose to solve the puzzle, I’ll need to find more of the pieces.  I don’t have them all yet, that’s why the pieces don’t fit.”

 

“ ** _Very good_** ,” Pride’s mouth tips up at the edges, I think it’s trying to smile.  “ ** _I am almost impressed_** ,” And it’s back to being a condescending arsehole.  “ ** _I hereby release you. No ties, no bounds, no deals, no bargains.  You are free.  No matter how much I may want to keep you in a ball in my pocket.  Though I think I will watch you more closely little Eevee.  What path will you ultimately choose?  What will you evolve into?  Now, go_**.”

 

Jolting, I’m suddenly somewhere else, Solas is still with me and I’m staring at my front door. How the fuck did Pride know my gaming name is a Pokemon?  Specifically, Eevee the adaptable evolution Pokemon?  The one Pokemon whose evolutionary choices are so varied?  It’s why it’s my favourite Pokemon, it can become nearly any of the Pokemon types.  It’s also so damn cute.

 

“Vhenan,” Solas grabs my hand. “Come, quickly,” He opens my front door and we hurry through into my living room.  He slams the door closed and I can hear several locks clicking.  Then he pulls me into a crushing hug, I may hug back just as fiercely.  “You are safe now, you are safe.”


	39. World’s Best Cat Dad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1st chapter update, of a 2 chapter update (2 chapters for the free price of 1)  
> Again, sorry for taking so long updating, new work is crazy. Thank you so much for hanging in there :)

Solas has buried his face in my neck, and he’s still shaking.  This isn’t good.  At least we’re back home.  We should be safe here, for now, depending on invading Spirits.  Hopefully they’ll stay away for the rest of the night.

 

“Solas?” I call as gently as I can, his ear is right by my mouth.  “Solas, do you want to go to the bedroom?  We can rest on our bed?”  It’s got to be more comfortable than standing here.  If we don’t move he’s going to end up with a crick in his neck.

 

For a few moments his hands tighten on me, then they relax a little, he shifts his head enough to talk into my ear, “As you wish.”  He sounds worse than he did in Haven after his crying fit.  Shit.  I’m not equipped to take care of another person’s emotional needs and traumas. I can barely cope with my own.  But I cared for him before and I’ll do it again.

 

“Come on, let’s go up to our bedroom, we can get comfy,” I try and encourage him to move.  He’s bigger than me, I can’t make him do anything.  Strangely that doesn’t scare me.  He does listen to me, and he lets go of me enough we can walk next to each other through to the bedroom.  Once there he’s reluctant to let me go so I can set the bed up.  He practically tackles me when I’ve got the pillows ready.

 

Suddenly I understand why writers use the description of an octopus, because Solas is doing his best to stick as close to me as he can, even as I struggle to get us both settled on the fucking bed properly.  I have to grit my teeth not to snap at him.  Finally, we’re the right way up, and supported by the pillows.  Now I can hug him back, and give him some emotional support.  Which I blank on, I’ve only ever received support, I’ve never given it.  Last time he wasn’t too bad and we listened to a book.

 

Damn it, Solas has been giving me support and making it look easy.

 

And then Baron appears like the little purring hero he is.  I’ve no idea why the memory of my beautiful boy is here, but I encourage him to get in on the snuggle action too.  It’s damn near impossible to spiral with Baron around.  His purrs will help Solas, while I flounder around failing to help.

 

“Good boy Baron,” I croon at my perfect angel.  “That’s right, you smoosh your head against Solas’ face.  Who doesn’t love cat fur up their nose,” Because cat fur up your nose is their way of showing you they love you; unless you’re allergic, in which case they’re probably trying to kill you.  They are cats after all.  “Who is mummy’s bestest baby boy?”  I rub the base of his ears the way he likes me to.

 

At this point I know I should be talking to Solas.  We need to discuss this, the revelation of him once being incorporeal isn’t a big deal to me, yet it clearly is to him. But, he’s also just triggered, he’s hurting, and dealing with the fallout.  I only know how I cope in these circumstances, which is needing my own space, and Baron.  Solas is much more of a hug monster, so I hold him firmly, hoping Baron can do his magic and help Solas too.

 

We all lay there, curled up together, I keep Solas pressed against me, and fuss Baron.  In the silence there’s only the purring of my cat, the buzzing of the bees in my flowers, and the hum of the birds’ wings as they sip nectar over our heads.  And then Solas moves his hand, which was gripping my clothes, and lets it wander over to fuss Baron too.

 

Making room on Baron’s fur I let Solas join me.  Baron’s fur is almost as soft as Solas’ wolf fur.  You can lose your fingers in it.  It’s very therapeutic.  It does mean our fingers bump, and brush over each other.  It should be awkward, it’s not.  We take turns stroking each other’s fingers and Baron.  Until our hands rest on top of Baron, our thumbs tangle with each other, and we occasionally wiggle our fingers to tickle the cat.

 

Feeling Solas begin to relax is pretty amazing.  I’ve always known carers are some of the best human beings on the planet, but I never understood why they were so caring and dedicated.  Seeing Solas start to recover, watching the tension leak out of him, and his body unfold, is indescribable.  This moment slams me in the chest.  If this is what medical staff, and carers, get out of their work, no wonder they put up with so much shit to help others.

 

When he lifts his head up and looks at me, his face is back to normal, there’s nothing to indicate his little moment.  “Hey Sunshine,” I greet him as gently as I can.

 

“Vhenan,” His voice is back to normal too.  Then he kind of snuggles back in so I let him rest, and he says, “In the memories you left me, you spoke often of Baron, but you left no images of him.”

 

“Really?”  I wonder why.  Maybe I didn’t know how to make images stick or something.  Huh.  “Sorry, that means you’ve never really met Baron then. I don’t think that first shared dream before I stabilised the Breach counts.” I wiggle about a bit, so I can get my shoulders higher up the pillows.  “Solas, this is Baron.  He is the most snuggly, fluffy, loving baby boy you will ever have the good fortune to meet.  He loves his ears being rubbed, getting belly rubs, laying in the sun while you read to him, and generally ruling over everyone else, because he’s a cat.”  Demonstrating the ear rub, I then croon to Baron, “Hey baby boy, this is Solas.  He’s a complete Fade nerd, gives the best hugs in the world, and if the care he’s given to me is any indication, he’s going to be the world’s best cat dad too.”

 

Next to me Solas jolts slightly, while Baron, enjoying the fuss he’s getting, turns his attention to his new cat dad’s eyebrows.  “Urgh,” Solas pulls his face away from Baron’s rough tongue, I snigger as Baron follows him, determined to wash Solas.

 

“Ah Baron, you’re such a good boy,” In no way did I get out of the wash zone earlier, leaving Solas to take the brunt of it.  “You prove to Solas how much you love him.”  I’m probably a terrible person for not rescuing Solas straight away.  One of his arms is trapped under me, so he’s already at a disadvantage, and Baron has mastered the art of pinning his target to get to their eyebrows.

 

Taking pity on Solas, I get my own arm free, so I can scoop Baron up, and tuck him against me.  In return for my selfless action, Baron turns his attention to my chin.  “You may have noticed Baron’s a bit of a fiend for eyebrows,” I wince as Baron nibbles me.  “Also, thank god this is the Fade, because cats’ mouths have so many germs, we’d be decontaminating each other for hours.”

 

Free of a loving cat, Solas quickly sits up, and pulls both of us into a hug, “Vhenan,” His voice does the thing again.  “You would truly trust me with your beloved Baron?”

 

“Yeah,” I tip my face to look at Solas, only to find there’s a tear running down his face.  “Why wouldn’t I?”  Does he not like cats?  Is this a canine/feline thing?

 

“Yet I failed you, and Rose, so badly,” Solas chokes the words out, and then starts to babble Elvhen at me.  Without Love to translate I have no idea what he’s saying, but I do realise I’ve just fucked up, badly.  Rose is one of Solas’ triggers.  And I also used the word ‘dad’.

 

Out of sheer desperation, I sort of throw myself, and Baron, at Solas.  Grabbing Solas in a death grip, I cling on, hoping Baron can rescue Solas from my screw up.  “Solas, please, I’m here.”  As Solas has pressed kisses to my forehead in the past, I hope he’s okay with me doing the same to him.  Since I escaped by sperm donor, I’ve never kissed another humanoid, only ever animals.  Solas’ skin is shockingly soft against my lips.

 

Somehow Solas rolls us all, and levers us all upright.  He’s really strong.  And he still doesn’t frighten me, or worry me.  “MJ,” Gets my attention.

 

“Yeah?”  Oh god, how much of a mess have I made?  I press my cheek against his forehead, and pray I haven’t done too much damage.

 

“Thank you.  I will take my responsibilities as ‘Cat Dad’ to Baron extremely seriously,” I was not expecting Solas to say that.  It gives me the courage to move so I can peek at his face, he’s being all emotional, but not crying.

 

“Are you okay?” I ask the dumb question, knowing the answer is ‘No’. “I’m sorry Solas.  I didn’t mean to trigger you like that.  I’ll try harder.”  God this supportive stuff is hard.

 

“Ma lath,” He squeezes us in his arms for a moment, then relaxes.  Around us the room blurs slightly, going out of focus and then returning to normal.  Only we’re not where we were.  We’ve moved.  Solas is now propped up in the middle of the pillows, I’m sideways on his lap, and in his arms.  Baron is on my lap, and in my arms.  “Fascinating,” He’s staring at Baron.  “Such a gentle and powerful spirit, they so rarely interact with others.”

 

Spirit?

 

Baron’s a spirit?

 

Staring down at my beautiful baby boy, he stares back.  He does the cat thing of blinking at you, to show trust, love, and that he’s non aggressive.  Automatically I blink back at him.  Baron, or the Spirit masquerading as him, gives his burbling singing call, before butting his head at my chin.  How can I not cuddle and fuss him?

 

Except, in the game, Solas said Sprits can get twisted by people.  Wisdom did, and it led to its destruction.  I never want that for any Spirit.  “Solas?  Is this Spirit safe here?  What if I warp it by accident?”

 

Oh god, I could hurt Baron.

 

“I do not believe this particular Spirit to be in any danger,” Solas helps me fuss Baron.  “This is the second such ancient Spirit drawn to you.  It also appears to have the necessary defences to protect itself from being twisted.”

 

“They can do that?” I don’t remember anything like that in the game.  It was more; be careful in case you hurt them.

 

“Only the oldest, the most powerful, are self-aware enough to do so,” Solas discovers the base of Baron’s ear and rubs.  He’s going to be an amazing cat dad if he’s mastered such an essential skill so quickly.  “Even my kin, Wisdom, cannot do such a thing, it has yet to grow enough.”  Huh?  But he said second ancient Spirit, if he didn’t mean the first ancient Spirit was Wisdom, who did he mean?

 

“ ** _Joy_** ,” A beautiful Labrador dog jumps onto our bed, Love’s voice coming from it.  “ ** _Joy was the oldest, and strongest, Spirit.  Until now.  This particular form of Love is older still, and is currently guarding this memory of your former home Solas created for you_**.”  Love as a dog, flops on top of all three of us, joining in the hug.

 

It’s automatic to reach out and pull the dog shaped Spirit closer.  Its fur is as soft as Baron’s.  I’ve always wanted a dog, ever since I was a little kid, all the way into my late adult years.  I never got one.  I’d never be a good dog mum, I’d never be able to take the dog out for walks, or cope if it got too boisterous.

 

Pushing its muzzle into my shoulder, my Love adds, “ ** _I am still watching over your sleeping body.  Other than Solas, no one is touching you.  You continue to be safe_**.”  Part of me relaxes.  I know I can trust Love.  I’m safe with Love.

 

“Thank you,” I tell it and sneak some more fur rubs for it.

 

Wiggling out from under Love’s bulk, Baron climbs a bit higher on us, getting into the wash zone, if he wanted I’d be helpless against him.  Instead, he reaches out and starts to wash Love’s ear.  And that’s another worry I can let go of, the Spirits seem to get on.  But if they’re both Spirits of Love I’m not so surprised by it.  Also knowing I can’t hurt Baron is a relief.

 

“ ** _Solas?_** ” Love flicks its eyes over to him, careful not to move its head, so Baron can keep washing its ear.

 

“Yes,” Solas’ still fussing Baron, and occasionally moving his hand to rub Love’s fur too.

 

“ ** _MJ wishes to discuss many things with you_** ,” Love tells him.  “ ** _We spent the afternoon together trying to sort out a great number of her worries and issues_**.”  I’m not sure now is a good time.  Solas still needs to recover.

 

“Oh?” Turning his head, Solas has just the right angle to press kisses to my forehead.  “What worries you ma asha?”

 

“We don’t have to do this now Solas,” I give him an out.  “We’ll just relax, maybe listen to a book, or some music,” Sometimes, after a bad trigger, or panic attack, I couldn’t even listen to music, I was so exhausted, I’d lie on the bed with Baron, all the curtains shut, too tired to even sleep, which sounds stupid, but it’s true.

 

Love apparently doesn’t get the hint, “ ** _She now believes you are too tired_**.”  Urgh, Love is such a little tattle tale.  It prods me with a wet nose, “ ** _In the cabin at Haven you nearly had a fit when you could no longer see Solas.  Solas has the same root issue, you were not here, and he could not find you, as Wisdom had hidden you from him_**.”  Really?  “ ** _Yes, and then you guessed his origins, for a moment he forgot your acceptance of Cole, remembering only people’s fear of all beings from the Fade_**.”

 

Oh.

 

With one arm around Baron, and the other around Love, I don’t have a free arm to hug Solas.  I end up smooching my face against his.  “Solas,” I’m not sure people are meant to rub faces like a cat, but I hope it conveys support.

 

“MJ,” To my surprise he rubs back, bumping our noses carefully.  His own arms are filled with all of us, and he squeezes us gently.  The purr of Baron, the buzz of bees, the hum of the birds, I find myself relaxing.  Resting my head near Solas’ neck, I breathe in Solas, rub my hands in Love and Baron’s fur.  This is pretty close to perfection right now.  Against me Solas is also relaxing.

 

A crackle from my speakers, and a sleep track I sometimes play drifts from them.  It’s a combination of the sea, whales, and harp music.  Snuggling into Solas, Love, and Baron, I let my eyes slide shut. Comfortable, warm, safe, I soon sink down, as I almost float, the sensation of being rocked by waves gently pushes me into a doze.

 

A sudden wet nose on my face, followed by a lick, has me jolting out of my doze.  Love gives me another lick, “ ** _Faith is here, it is time for your lessons_**.”  Faith is here?  “ ** _Yes_**.”  Wait what about Solas? “ ** _He is better, rested, refreshed, renewed, and recovered_**.”  Good.

 

“I am well MJ,” Solas moves under me and I turn my head to see him blink a bit sleepily.  There’s colour in his cheeks again, his eyes looks clear, and he’s still completely relaxed.

 

“ ** _We are all recovered_** ,” Joy’s voice comes from further over.  Craning a bit, I can see it’s made itself comfortable, curling up on the other side of Solas, by his neck.  “ ** _That was more fun than I thought it could be.  You have lots of fun games MJ.  Even quiet time with you is fun_**.”

 

“ ** _Agreed_** ,” Faith says somewhere else in the room.  “ ** _And now it is time for your lessons to continue_**.”  What lessons?  “ ** _The lessons you began with Wisdom and Pride, before you were interrupted by your need to protect the Wolf_**.”  Huh?  Is it talking about Wisdom Fadenapping me and triggering Solas?  “ ** _Yes_** ,” Oh.  “ ** _If you would turn your attention to the viewing device, we will begin, again_**.”

 

WTF?

 

Over the speakers, the music cuts off, and there’s a tapping sound followed by, “ ** _This device is very interesting MJ_**.”  Why is Pride’s voice on my speakers?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, to those who spotted Baron in earlier chapters in the story, it was the same Spirit both times MJ was asleep in the Fade


	40. Spectrum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2nd chapter of a 2 chapter update, seriously, I've give you amazing people 2 chapters in one update. You all deserve it :)

Whatever the hell is going on has caused Solas to manhandle us upright.  I’m now nestled next to him in the pillows, Baron across both our laps, Love curled up next to me, and Joy curled up on Solas’ other side.  I’m happy the little grey kitten isn’t right next to me. It scares me.  I can still remember what it said to me when we met.

 

On our TV there’s a flickering scene.  It looks just like the place Wisdom took me to, before Solas found me.  And Wisdom is curled up on the stone I woke up on, Pride leaning on the stone next to it.  Over our speakers Wisdom’s voice comes through clearly, “ ** _And now to continue with your lessons_**.”

 

What?  Why do they keep talking about my lessons?

 

“ ** _Yes_** ,” Faith jumps up next to the TV, the stupid hat defying gravity and staying on its furry little head.

 

Wisdom nods on the TV screen, “ ** _We have lost a great deal of time tonight, and there is still much to learn_**.”  Huh?  Lost time?  Is it also talking about the fact it Fadenapped me, took me to the site of its future death, and triggered Solas?  “ ** _Yes MJ_** ,” It answers my thoughts, and my eyes narrow at it.  “ ** _Do you have an issue with any of this?_** ”

 

Uh, yeah.  I have an issue with it.  It took me to another part of the Fade without my permission, it deliberately hid me from Solas, and I’m convinced it knew the effect that would have on him.  For fuck’s sake its name is Wisdom, it can see those path thingys, there’s no way it didn’t know its actions would trigger him.

 

“ ** _Interesting_** ,” Pride straightens up and peers towards us.  “ ** _Your attachment to the Wolf is stronger than it appears_** ,” Huh?  What’s it talking about?  “ ** _Your anger over the ‘triggering’ of the Wolf implies a deeper emotional connection than we realised_**.”

 

Solas’ arm tightens behind me briefly, “You misunderstand her.  MJ’s nature, when allowed to run its course, is deeply protective and nurturing.  Wisdom, by its own actions, set a course which has roused MJ’s need to protect.  We are all aware from my memories, and MJ’s, that of all those of the Inquisition, I am her least favourite,” After all the care Solas has been giving me, I feel a bit mean about him being my least favourite Dragon Age character.  Of course it turns out he’s real, and so is everyone else.  It also turns out he’s not who I thought he was, and neither are some of the others, including the Spirits.

 

“While my emotional attachment to MJ is unbreakable, there has not been sufficient time for any bond to form on her side,” He sounds so calm and matter of fact.  I now feel extremely guilty.  I’m not sure where the guilt is strongest.  Is it because I don’t have this deep emotional bond for a guy I’ve only just met?  Or because I’ve essentially been leaning on him, and using him, since I arrived in Thedas?

 

Inside me something clanks in the deep pit of my guilt.  Something doesn’t belong there.  Considering I’ve spent a lifetime in therapy, I have to admit, when I mentally prod at this thing, I have no idea what it is.  It’s not real.  Not like my mana is.  I can touch my mana physically, measure it, use it.  This new thing is an emotion, no, it’s closer to being a mixture of emotions and a few scattered memories.

 

“ ** _Yes_** ,” Love presses against me.  “ ** _Well done MJ.  You are correct, these are fragile for now, but are growing deep inside of you.  Just as they did for Baron_** ,” Okay, so they’re not a bad thing, but what are they?  I don’t recognise them.  “ ** _They are the first stirrings of your friendship with Solas.  Those are delicate roots of trust, support, care, loyalty.  Given time they will sprout, and grow, into a strong unshakable bond of friendship, which will warm you for the rest of your life_**.”  It tells me, its voice echoing out so I know Solas heard it too.

 

Wow.

 

Automatically I crane my neck towards Solas, to share this news, the same news he just heard from Love, with him, “Solas, look, look, at the root things.  See Solas, do you see them?”  And yeah, it’s stupid of me.  How could he possibly see them? They’re inside of me.

 

Then there’s a sensation of fingers, against the things I noticed, right inside of me “I see them Lethallin.”  Physically he pulls me even closer, “I see them.”

 

“I’ve never had a friend before,” I tell him conversationally.  Then I pause, “Well, there was Baron, but he’s a cat, and well.” I break off, amending it to, “I’ve never had a two-legged person as my friend before.”  Frowning I add, “I’m not sure I know how to be a friend to someone who’s not an animal.”

 

His arms tighten a fraction more, then relax, “You will find it a most surprising journey ma falon.  It will come more naturally than you think.  And, it will teach you much about yourself, and about your friend.”

 

“Huh,” Well I suppose he knows what he’s talking about.  He must have had friends before.

 

“ ** _No_** ,” Wisdom stands up in its boulder.  “ ** _The Wolf has had only one true friend before you.  All others were those who sought to use him for their own gain_** ,” Really?  I tip my head to look at Solas, his face says it all, or rather nothing at all, as it’s gone poker straight.  “ ** _Of all the people he has met in his life, only Mythal, and you, have forged friendships with him._** ”  Ouch.  At least I had Baron in my life.  And I’m not thousands of years old, so I’ve not had as long to be alone.  “ ** _Yes MJ, he has been alone for a very long time_**.”

 

Wiggling a bit, I try and go to hug him, but there are too many Spirits as animals, and I don’t want to dislodge them either.  Then I stop, frown and glare at Wisdom, “What do you mean only Mythal and me?  What about you?”  Is this why it’s being such a complete arsehole to him?  And well to me too?

 

“ ** _Interesting_** ,” Pride peers at me through the TV.  “ ** _You truly do consider Spirits to be people.  People capable of forming friendships_** ,” Well yeah.  Of course.  They can.  Can’t they?  “ ** _Yes, we can, and we do_**.”

 

On the screen, Wisdom crouches down, wiggles its little bottom, and then springs towards the TV.  I’m expecting a bonk noise as it hits the camera.  Instead, it leaps through the TV, and into our bedroom.  “ ** _Then you are correct MJ_** ,” It says calmly jumping up to a spare spot near Faith, by the TV.  “ ** _Solas has seven such friends residing in the Fade, including myself, though not my twin Pride.  They do not, ‘get on’, as you would say_**.”

 

Twin?

 

My head turns back to the TV, where Pride is readying itself to jump too.  When it reappears in our bedroom, I’m surprised when it appears as a small silver fox, with six grey eyes.  It joins Wisdom, their bodies settling down together, like they’ve done this a million times before.

 

And then I query, “We?  You said, ‘We can’.”  It’s a Pride Demon, not a Spirit, isn’t it?

 

A burst of static on the TV and the scene changes.  It’s now showing the computerised version of Haven.  Outside a wooden cabin, there’s a computerised version of Solas, “Spirits wish to join the living, and a demon is that wish gone wrong.”  His voice is exactly as I remember it in the game, but it falls flat, tinny, wrong.  The real Solas’ voice has an added something.

 

Huh?

 

“I don’t get it,” I also can’t be bothered with these ‘lessons’, I’m still mad at Wisdom for the stunt it pulled.  Then my eyes get caught by Joy.  Its now sitting up at the bottom of the bed, playing with another jigsaw.  This one is a round yin-yang symbol.  I’m used to the black and white ones, not grey with a hint of blue, and Fade green ones.  I watch, distracted, as Joy slowly begins to complete the puzzle.  There’s something about it.

 

Running various conversations back through my head, I look at Solas again, and ask, “When you were incorporeal, were you a Demon, or a Spirit?”  For some reason the idea of Solas as a Demon feels wrong.  Sure, he’s a racist idiot, with really bad life choices. But his actions throughout the Inquisition game just don’t sit right with me if I shove the label ‘Demon’ on them.

 

His eyes crinkle up at the edges, “A very good question Vhenan.  I was a Spirit.”

 

And under my metaphorical feet, the ground shifts, beginning to fall away.  To clarify, I swallow, then push the words out, “You were a Spirit of Pride?”

 

“Yes,” His answer shakes the foundations of everything I thought I knew about the Fade, Spirits, and Demons.  It changes everything.  “The aspect a Spirit, or Demon, embodies does not stipulate where,” He pauses.  “I believe ‘spectrum’ would be a good word to help you understand.  Yes.  Spectrum, is a good, if erroneous, term.”  Huh?.  “The aspect embodied by a Fade person, for example, Wisdom, or Pride, does not dictate where on the spectrum any particular Spirit, or Demon, must reside.  They, themselves, dictate where on the spectrum they should be at any time.”

 

“Um?” I stare at him wondering what the fuck he just said.  Tentatively, I try and put it into some kind of context I can understand, “So, you can get Demons of Wisdom, and Spirits of Pride?”

 

“They are exceptionally rare, but yes,” Solas tells me.  “For instance,” He shifts and seems to absently start petting Baron, giving a perfect ear rub.  “I suspect the Spirit of Compassion, which came through to help the human boy Cole, came very close to twisting into a Demon of Compassion.”

 

“I always thought he nearly twisted into a Demon of Despair,” I’m not disputing Solas’ Fade knowledge, but this goes against everything the game told us.  Doesn’t it?  “Wait,” A very horrible thought runs through my head.  “The Justice which possessed Anders, was it a Demon, or a Spirit?”

 

Like a pause button being pressed, the whole room goes silent, and still.  Even the bees stop buzzing, and the birds’ wings stop humming.

 

“ ** _Very interesting_** ,” Pride’s ears have perked up, all six of its eyes are focused on me.  “ ** _The way you learn is very different to the other humans_**.”

 

Which doesn’t answer my question.

 

Love sighs deeply, “ ** _Once that particular Justice was a Spirit.  It began to change many ages ago.  It shifted its stance on what you would think of as the spectrum.  By the time it sought out the physical world of Thedas, it was neither a Spirit, nor a Demon.  Not in the way you consider these terms_**.”  Oh god.  I’m not going to like this.  “ ** _The being which bonded irrevocably to the Spirit Healer Anders, had already began to shift on the Spectrum towards a Demon_**.”

 

Oh, Anders.

 

“But, how does Justice, supposedly a positive aspect, twist from a Spirit, to a Demon?” I still don’t get it.  Surely Justice is a positive thing?  And so is Wisdom?  Aren’t they?

 

Faith stirs and regards me, “ ** _Child, consider the history of Earth_**.”  Okay, which part?  “ ** _How many wars were started in the name of Faith?_** ”  What?  I blank on the answer, because there were so many conflicts about religion.  “ ** _On Earth you also had something called the Inquisition.  Were its actions moral ones?_** ”

 

Shaking my head, “No.  Of course not.”  The things the Inquisition did were horrible, barbaric, and wrong.

 

“ ** _Yet_** ,” Faith continues.  “ ** _Were its actions not guided by Faith?_** ”  I don’t have an answer, because the only answer I can think of, is yes.  However misguided, blind, and wrong that Faith was, it was still Faith.  “ ** _Such would be an example of Faith being a negative aspect.  Its impact on the world causing only pain, suffering, and misery, spreading ignorance in its wake; instead of bringing comfort, hope, and peace, encouraging understanding to flourish_** **_all around it_**.”

 

Mind blown; I rest against Solas as the last of the ground seems to vanish under my feet.  My worldview of Thedas shatters, tumbling into sharp pieces all around me.  Nothing I learnt in the game prepared me for this.  And nothing explains why Spirits can change from Purpose to Desire, or Wisdom to Pride.  This new information suggests they simply move along a sliding scale from Spirit to Demon.

 

I’m even more confused than ever.

 

“ ** _The lessons are concluded for now_** ,” Wisdom stretches and then settles back against Pride.  “ ** _All the lessons, yours, and Solas’_**.”  What?  What lessons did Solas have?  “ ** _Simple, child, the lesson he is more than Pride now, and he must set his Pride aside occasionally, instead of letting it weigh him down_**.”  It sits up, “ ** _He will be the Inquisitor soon.  Thedas will rise, and fall, at his words and actions.  He cannot allow himself to forget this new lesson, lest he fall, again, and take all of Thedas with him_**.”

 

“I understand,” Solas tells it.  I don’t.  I don’t understand it at all.  “Your lesson was a painful one.  I assume you devised it in such a way, to harness the pain itself, and used it to emphasise the lesson’s message?”

 

“ ** _Yes, my kin_** ,” It tells him, as I sit in complete and utter bewilderment.  “ ** _I take no pleasure in the pain you felt_** ,” Good, that’s a good thing.  Right?  “ ** _Please, remember this lesson, do not stray from the path.  I have no wish to embrace suicide, as I was driven to, the last time these events played out_**.”

 

When I was in the car accident, there was this moment, this split second, where we slammed into the lorry.  The moment I still have nightmares about.  Afterwards, when people asked me to describe how it felt to go from double digit miles per hour to a sudden stand still, I was lost for words.  This moment right now, is similar, while being completely different.

 

Suicide?

 

What the fuck is Wisdom talking about?  It was summoned, turned into a demon, and then Solas freed it.  Or, at least, that’s what the game said happened.  But this lesson right now, said Spirits and Demons were much more complex than that.  Plus, the area Wisdom was supposedly summoned to, belonged to its twin, Pride.  Also, how the hell do you get twins in the Fade?

 

“I will remember,” Solas’ voice is doing the thing again.  “I will not forget again.”

 

My head hurts.

 

I’m not sure I’m ready for any more shocks.  When Solas fusses over me I let him.  When he gets everyone, and I mean everyone in the room, even Pride, settled down.  I snuggle into his side and let the sleep music wash over me.  There’s so much information buzzing around in my head I almost can’t think.

 

Shutting my eyes, I try and shut my brain up, best to let my subconscious sift through this mess.  It tends to be smarter than me.  I’ll deal with this later.  Much later.  Say thirty or forty years, give or take a few eons.

 

I only know one thing for sure; I’m never going to understand Thedas, this place is crazy.

 

And we still don’t have a bloody plan I can follow.  Fuck it.  I’m going to wing it for another day.  We can brainstorm a plan I can follow tomorrow night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you confused on the nature of Spirits/Demons? Yes? Good. I'm sorry for confusing you. This is plot-centric. I promise. (Well eventually it will be).
> 
> Also for those of you who skipped straight to this chapter, yep there really are 2 chapters, if you missed Chapter 39 you might want to go back a page and read it :)
> 
> Be safe everyone :)


	41. A Much Better Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was just going to be a small filler chapter, it kind of got away from me, I hope you enjoy.

My headache follows me into the waking world, where I make an unpleasant discovery. Morning breath is a real thing.  And both Malika and Herah suffer from it.  Also we’re all in a small tent, my right shoulder is still injured, and there’s no way for me to escape the smell.

 

Thankfully Solas wakes up right after me.

 

We quickly flee the interior of the tent. “Air!  Sweet glorious air!  Oh thank god,” I mutter under my breath, as Solas chuckles into my ear.

 

Turning my head I look right into his eyes, when I have a thought. In a panic, I lift my only useable hand up to my mouth, huff into it, and check to make sure my breath doesn’t carry ‘eau de dead thing’.  It doesn’t.  I relax as Solas’ body begins to shake from laughing at me.

 

“Solas,” I whine at him. “It’s not funny.  What if I accidently killed you with my breath?”  His eyes crinkle up as he gets louder.  “Urgh,” I lean my forehead on his shoulder and wait him out.

 

Men are weird.

 

Though, on a brighter note, he does seem to be recovered from Wisdom’s little stunt, if he can laugh this easily. Feeling a bit better, that he’s a bit better, I smile up at him when he’s finished, and chirp, “Good morning sunshine.”

 

I think I may be turning into a morning person. I also think I might like it.

 

“Good morning ma da’asha,” He rests his forehead against mine, wrapping his arms around me, and pulling me into an epic hug. Hugs are also a thing I think I’m going to like.  “Vhenan?”

 

“Hmm?” I revel in the sensation of being held.

 

“Do you recall me warning you I would get even for the tickling?” He murmurs right into my ear. His voice is doing the thing.  And I’m learning to like the way he talks into my ear.

 

Then I realise what he’s just said. Jerking back from him, I get to see him start to smirk.  It changes his face from his usual grave and sombre expression, to what I can only describe as a little boy’s, a very mischievous little boy’s.  And then the total bastard tickles me.

 

This horrendous high pitched shriek, squeal, thing comes out of me.

 

Freezing in shock at the god awful sound, I slap my only free hand over my mouth, as Solas breaks off his attack to go back to laughing at me. Another laugh comes from behind me.  I spin to see who it is, and almost trip over my own feet.  Solas catches me, turning it into a hug, as I realise Kaaras’ standing there laughing at me too.

 

“You two remind me of my parents,” Kaaras says as he walks over to another tent. “Hey, get up, breakfast is nearly ready.”  Turning back to us, he grins, “I’d ask if you slept well, but I’m guessing you did, if you’ve both got enough energy to mess around.”  For some reason my face heats up and I’m not sure why.

 

“Thank you,” Solas has wrapped his arms around me again. “We did sleep well.  Ma asha and I, spent many hours together in the Fade, simply resting, and listening to music,” Which surprises me.  Does he want people to know we spend time together in the Fade?  And he’s doing it again, he’s telling the truth, but implying something else entirely, all at the same time.

 

“ ** _He does wish people to know of your time together in the Fade_** ,” Love tells me.  “ ** _Also, this will demonstrate to the others, your attachment to the Fade has stabilized, meaning you are recovering well from your exhaustion_**.”  Good?  I prod at the mana pool sloshing around inside of me. It’s certainly bigger than it was yesterday.  Almost double the size.  “ ** _So, today, you will be able to heal the wounded by one third each_** ,” One third? Really? “ ** _Yes, it will be enough to convince them you are an incredible healer, but that you are still recovering_**.”  Okay?  I guess Love knows what it’s doing.  Though I’m not sure how you’re supposed to work out what a third of a healing is.

 

“Huh?” Kaaras is staring at Solas.

 

“I am a dreamer,” Solas starts leading me off to one side. Having just fallen over my own feet, I lean on him a bit more than usual, and concentrate on picking my feet up properly.  “It is no effort to find my wife’s dream and enter it.  We spend a great deal of time together in the Fade.”

 

By now Varric and Edric have appeared from the tent Karaas spoke to. While Herah and Malika have stumbled out of our tent.  In short order we’re all eating breakfast as a group.  This is so much better than yesterday.

 

Afterwards, I’m to be sent off with Herah, and Malika, to see to the wounded. I have to admit I’m a bit excited at the idea of helping people.  Healing Herah on the mountain was nice.  Helping Solas last night was amazing.  I’ve never had that feeling before.

 

I want to feel it again.

 

I want to be useful.

 

With this kind of good start, today is going to be a much better day, I can just tell. I just have to tell Solas and he nods too, agreeing with me.

 

Solas helps me to my feet, pulling me into a hug, which I snuggle into happily. A kiss is pressed onto my forehead and he murmurs, “Be good Vhenan.  I will be nearby.  I cannot seem to find the strength to let you wander far from me today.  Nor it seems to let you out of my arms,” He tightens his arms.

 

“That’s fine, I don’t like the idea of going far either,” I admit and cling a bit closer. “I want to be able to help people, but staying here sounds good too.”  Maybe I can do both?  Like yesterday, when Solas stayed with me, while I was helping the wounded?

 

“Ah, you are temptation itself beloved,” He shifts to talk straight into my ear. “To stand here for an eternity, with you in my arms, sounds like paradise,” It does?  Won’t we get bored?  Or rained on?  What if one of us needs to pee?  “Alas, duty calls us.  Though should you lose sight of me, you need only call out for me,” He pauses.  “The sound of a dying pterodactyl is surprisingly effective at getting peoples’ attention.”

 

My jaw drops and I go to poke him with a finger, but he dances backwards, and out of poking distance. “Have a good morning vhenan,” He blows me a kiss and struts off.

 

Grumbling under my breath about men being arseholes, I let Herah lead me over to the wounded. Time to break out the old, or in this case new, healing skills, and start pulling my weight.

 

**oOo**

 

Gathering everyone together, Edric stands with the others in front of Solas, where they’ve formed a loose horseshoe shape. Solas lifts an eyebrow at them, “Your number appears to have grown since yesterday.”

 

“Yeah,” Kaaras rubs the back if his neck. “Well, it’s easier to have people covering areas they understand.  Varric might understand the merchant stuff, but he wasn’t interested, so we picked Seggrit.  And Herah could cover the mage stuff, but she’s busy with Eevee, so we picked Minaeve,” The elf woman in question looks like she’d prefer to be somewhere else.  “She’d prefer to be a researcher, but she’s agreed to help as mage liaison, for now.”

 

“Ah,” Solas nods at Minaeve. “Our thanks then.”

 

Off to one side, Adan, and Mahanon, were helping the red headed human with the Mabari, stumble towards them. Kid was still wobbly on his feet from whatever Eevee’d done to him yesterday.

 

Gruff as ever, Adan barks out, “Sorry we’re late. Had to give the girls the names of those best seen to by the Herald.”  He gives Solas a nod, “Woman of yours is a miracle worker.  Some of the wounds were starting to turn, she cleaned them right up, never seen anything like it before in my life.”  Solas opens his mouth to speak, but Adan just bulls right on, “Which brings me to what I want to talk to you about.  I want to step down as the Inquisition’s healer.”

 

Everyone in the group erupts trying to tell him no. Solas has to bring them loudly to order, and then turns to the human, “Master Adan, I admit to being confused by your request.  You have impressed me with your levelheadedness, your hard work, and your dedication to the sick and wounded.  Why do you feel the need to step down?  While my wife is an unparalleled healer, she will be needed far from camp to heal the rifts.  And the Inquisition will need a competent healer, such as yourself, at all times.”

 

“Well,” Adan’s shoulders sag. “I appreciate your recognition Serah Solas.  But the only reason most of the wounded didn’t die, is because of the instructions you gave to me,” A few people disagree.  Solas holds up a hand for silence and motions Adan to continue, “I’m not a trained healer.  I specialized in setting things on fire, bottling lightning, and blowing things up.  It’s what I’m good at.

 

“I did learn to brew the healing potions as an apprentice, but it’s been years since I made them. I’ve forgotten most of ‘em.  Without a recipe, or my old apprentice notes, I’m useless at them.  Which is why I’ve only got the most basic ones available,” The alchemist explains, and Edric didn’t know that.  “At Haven there wasn’t anyone else to play healer, which is why the Seeker ordered me to do it.  Frankly, I’m out of my depth, and this Inquisition deserves better.  I don’t mind helping out, but I’m a bad choice, and I know it.  I hate giving less than my best.”

 

“I see. Thank you for your honesty Master Adan,” Solas says.  “Do you have any recommendations for your replacement?”

 

Edric watches as Adan and Mahanon exchange a glance. Clearing his throat Adan nods, “We were thinking Mahanon is a better fit, with me backing him up, at least short term.  A couple of months at most.  Get me access to paper, and some crows, I’ll send out letters to find a better set of healers for you.  Mahanon was First of his Clan, he’s got some experience, but not enough.”  Shaking his head Adan frowns, “We’ll do what we can between us, and I’m sure your woman will help, but,” He stops, shrugging his shoulders.

 

“Hmm,” Solas puts his hands behind his back and clearly thinks hard. “Very well Master Adan.  Mahanon will be the main healer, caring for the wounded, and all other related tasks, with you as his second.”  Looking around at the group, he asks, “Does anyone have a better idea?  Or does anyone see a problem with this?”

 

Surprised at being asked, Edric shakes his head. Healing isn’t anything to do with him.  But Solas waits until everyone shakes their heads, and says, “This matter is settled for now then.  Minaeve, please can you speak to the mages, and the Tranquil, see if any have potion making experience, to help with the brewing of healing potions.  Master Seggrit, please add paper and ink to the list of supplies we are going to need.  Varric, the moment we find people, please can you see if there is anyone with healing experience with them, or a merchant selling recipes for healing potions.”

 

“Got it Chuckles,” Varric nods at him.

 

“Thank you,” Solas looks around at them. “Who is next?”

 

One by one, they all report into Solas. Each time, he listens, asks a few questions, makes a decision, askes everyone else if they can think of anything to improve it, and moves on.

 

This is different to every leader Edric’s ever been stuck with. Solas understands what they’re telling him.  He really is listening to them.  His orders are clear, easy to understand, and practical.  Edric can feel his spirits rise.  Solas is acting like the kind of leader who can get them wherever Eevee needs them to go.

 

When they reach the end, Kaaras lifts a hand up, “I’ve got one more thing to deal with.”

 

“Very well, report,” Solas tells him.

 

“It’s more of a query,” Kaaras points towards the side of the camp where the humans have made their own camp up the road. “What are we doing about them?”

 

Everyone turns to look in the humans’ direction. Thankfully they can’t see them from here.  “I fully intend to subvert, usurp, and steal as many of them for our Inquisition as I can,” Solas’ tone is calm.  It takes a moment for Edric to realise what the elf just said.

 

“Well, shit, you’re serious,” Varric’s jaw isn’t the only one to have dropped open. “Seeker isn’t going to like you stealing her people out from under her Chuckles,” Tethras warns the suicidal elf.  “And Leliana will straight up murder you if you get in her way,” Edric nods at the last bit, Leliana’s reputation was ruthless.

 

Instead of looking scared, Solas smiles, “Ah, yes, the two Hands of the Divine, who declared the Inquisition reborn. Yet, I cannot help but notice, the Herald is not with them, she is with us.”

 

Everyone turns to stare at Eevee over with the wounded.

 

Then everyone swivels back to stare at Solas.

 

“You crazy, fucking, pointy eared, bastard,” Pops out of Edric’s mouth. “I was wrong.  Eevee isn’t touched; you are.  You can’t challenge the Chantry.  They’ll destroy you.  They’ll destroy Eevee.  They’ll destroy us.”  Even the Merchants Guild, and the Carta, tiptoed around the Chantry.  Or paid them exorbitant bribes to look the other way.  No one fucks with the Chantry and lives to tell the tale.

 

“Challenge the Chantry?” One of Solas’ eyebrows lifts. “Edric, why would you think such a heretical thing?”

 

Nothing about the elf’s body language has changed, he’s still smiling gently, his hands held behind his back, but Edric’s instincts for danger are suddenly screaming at him. They’ve saved his life on more than one occasion.  He knows better than to ignore them.

 

Solas continues on with, “After all, we are searching for the villainous murderers of the Divine. The same cowardly miscreants, who dared strike at the heart of the Chantry itself, by wiping out the upper echelons of its leadership.  No, Edric, we are not challenging the Chantry, we are serving it, and the principles upon which it is founded.”  Right now, Solas is the picture of pious helpfulness.

 

Edric isn’t buying it.

 

In his head the memory of Haven bobs up. He remembers the fight between Solas and Kayne.  It was Solas, not Kayne who was calm the entire fight and controlled the battle field.  It was Solas, not Kayne who walked away from their encounter.  And it was Solas, not Kayne who systematically beat the other into a bloody, broken pulp.

 

This elf is one of most dangerous fighters he’s ever seen. And he’s a proficient mage who also knows how to shapeshift.  If someone offered Edric a free wager on who’d win between Solas and Leliana, Edric’s no longer sure who he’d pick.

 

“Now,” Solas looks around at all of them. “Who would like to help me start teaching the humans to respect non-humans?  And begin usurping them?”

 

Kaaras raises his hand again, “What’ve you got in mind?”

 

Solas tells them. Edric doesn’t understand why it’s necessary, but it makes Kaaras laugh, “Oh that’s good.  Nonverbal communication; got it.  Can I have Herah to back me up?  If Varric, or Edric, can take her place guarding Eevee?”

 

“I’ll guard Mouse,” Varric jumps in before Edric can. “I don’t want to be anywhere near the Seeker when you pull this on her.”

 

“Agreed,” Solas says and the meeting breaks up.

 

**oOo**

 

She is the most beautiful woman in the world.

 

No one could ever be as beautiful as her. She’s absolutely perfect.  Surely Andraste herself reached forth and blessed her with grace, poise, and a voice so musical he’s understands why everyone listens to her.

 

And this is his one chance, today, to talk to her. Hurrying over, he hovers to her left, as she struggles to fill the empty basket with wood.  Her perfect fingernails a soft blush of pink, bright against the darker tones of her soft skin.

 

“Um, wood?” He blurts out and winces. Dean never has this trouble talking to anyone, especially not women.  Gritting his teeth, Max takes a deep breath, and carefully says the words he’s been practicing for hours, “Lady Montilyet, please may I help you with this task?”

 

“Oh,” She stands up, not one hair out of place. “Lord Trevelyan, I didn’t realise you were there,” He’s not surprised.  She’s perfect.  And he’s nothing.  Why would she notice him?  “I couldn’t impose on you.”

 

“Please,” He waves at the woodpile, wishing he was as smooth as his brother at talking to people. “It would be my pleasure to give you wood,” He winces.  “I mean help you gather the wood?” Maker strike him down now.

 

A soft smile graces her lips and she nods.

 

Kneeling, he carefully piles the wood in the basket, and then lifts it up. Compared to training in the Templars this isn’t hard, or even heavy, though his heart is beating as if he’d just run the longest running course.  Silently he escorts her back into the Chantry, desperately wishing he knew what to say, but knowing he’ll say the wrong thing if he opens his mouth.  It doesn’t help the Lyrium is louder today, drowning out some of his thoughts, making it harder to think.

 

All too soon, he’s rebuilt the fire for her, stacked the extra wood to one side, and then put the basket away in its allotted place. Giving her a bow, he flees the room, before he can make a bigger fool of himself.

 

If the Maker ever answers his prayers, and lets Max be close to such an amazing woman for longer than an hour, Max is convinced he’ll die. His poor heart would simply give up.  Slightly out of breath, for no reason at all, he makes his way to the room assigned to him and his brothers.

 

Perhaps he’ll be allowed to help the Lady Montilyet again tomorrow? The Nightingale guarded her so fiercely.  And he can see why.  There are so many unscrupulous people, mostly nobles, who’d upset, or hurt the beautiful Lady if they could.

 

Reaching their room, he walks in to find Dean in a mood, and the twins sharpening their daggers, his brother glares at him, “Where have you been? Never mind, shut the door, and read this,” Papers are waved at him.

 

Doing as he’s told he shuts the door, and reads a list of men’s names. Puzzled he frowns and looks at his brother for a clue, “I don’t understand.”

 

“It was delivered to us while you were out,” Dean looks ready to kill someone. “The Inquisition are offering to help us find a more suitable husband for Evelyn.  That list is their contribution.  They want us to review the names.  Then the Lady Montilyet is more than willing to write letters of introduction on our behalf.”

 

What? “That can’t be right,” Max says, even more confused.  “You told them Evelyn and Solas are a fertile pairing,” Dean had said a lot of things on the matter of Evelyn and Solas.  He was all for the marriage.  Max doesn’t understand most of it, the song from the Lyrium was always whispering and scratching at him now, louder than it’s ever been, trying to get his attention, and urging him to take more.

 

Always to take more.

 

Thankfully there were more Templars here at Haven who were going through the same thing he was. Commander Rutherford had even spoken to him about it.  They’d discussed being a Templar and taking Lyrium.  Max’d been shocked to discover the man had stopped taking it.  And Max was now struggling with himself to decide whether or not to try stopping too.

 

Staring at the list he tries to concentrate. Why Evelyn wanted a dirty knife ear pawing at her, had been lost on Max, until he’d tried training yesterday.  He’d not dodged a blow fast enough. His bruise from the blow is spectacular.  He’d realised then that elves are weaker than humans, and elves rarely hit humans.  No wonder she’d agreed to marry a rabbit.  Better a filthy, lazy elf, than a violent human.

 

Lost at what to do next, he lets Dean direct him over towards the twins, letter still in hand. He’s to memorise the names on the list.  And then never let any of these men be alone with their sister, or the elf Solas.  Dean wants to protect the marriage in the hope of getting multiple daughters from their sister.  The pure female line must continue; at any cost.

 

**oOo**

 

For someone who, probably, couldn’t be pried off of Solas with a crowbar, Eevee sure hates being touched by anyone else.

 

Herah had thought she was imagining it at first.

 

But no.

 

The human tenses each time Herah, or Malika, helps her up, or down. Even reaching out to touch the wounded, Eevee steels herself first, and retracts her hand as soon as she can.

 

Plus the little human woman hates people in her personal space.

 

Small, tiny, movements give her away. And she hides it really well.  If Herah hadn’t seen this in other women, and a few men, she wouldn’t know what she was looking at.  Rape victims, more often than not, went one of a dozen different ways.  There was Eevee’s way of hating being touched, or being close to people.  Or people became consumed by rage, lashing out blindly at everyone.  Another common one, was they’d start throwing their bodies at anyone and everyone, seemingly determined to have as much sex as they possibly could.  Herah’s mother said they often hurt so much inside they tried to find ways make the outside match.  Herah doesn’t understand it, but her mom’s much smarter than she is, must be the training she went through as a kid, growing up in the Qun.

 

Another thing Herah’s finding fascinating is Eevee’s not fully healing people. It’s taken most their circuit of the wounded, but she thinks she’s worked it out.  Eevee’s healing each and every single wound by either a half, or a third.

 

And Herah has no idea why.

 

Eevee clearly isn’t flagging, or tired. She’s healing people better, faster, and more completely than any other healer Herah’s ever seen.  On the mountain, when she’d healed Herah, she’d acted like it was easy then too.  In fact, Eevee’d used unbreakable barriers there too.  As well as a new spell to let them see in the dark, one Herah’s never seen before.  And Eevee’s mana hadn’t flagged once.

 

Finished with the last person, Eevee turns her attention to her own shoulder. Relief floods her face, and she flexes her shoulder slightly.  “Better?” Herah asks.

 

“Yep,” Eevee nods. And her speech patterns are different from how Solas speaks for her.  Herah’s already heard two swear words from her while healing.  And last night she learnt the human woman snored, very lightly, but still a soft snore.

 

Looking up she sees Adan, Mahanon, Varric, and the human with the big dog coming towards them. So does Eevee, but she simply leans towards Herah, and doesn’t make eye contact with the men.  Her refusal to speak to men is natural.  After everything the poor bitch has been through, she’s clearly terrified of men, and Herah doesn’t blame her.  But at some point she’s going to have to start talking to them.

 

Or at least some of them.

 

It probably wasn’t a problem when it was just Eevee and Solas, in the wilderness, all by their selves, and maybe some trees. But eventually it’s going to become a problem.

 

Herah and Kaaras are going to have to put their heads together, and come up with a way to draw Eevee out, and get her used to talking to some of the men. Safe ones like Kaaras, Varric, and Edric.  Eevee seemed to like them and had already started making eye contact with them.

 

When the men reach them, they give them an update of what happened in the ‘meeting’. Seems Solas was happy enough to let Mahanon take over as healer, for the short term, and a few other things too.  And then they tell them the plan Solas has concocted.

 

That gets Eevee’s attention.

 

It also makes Herah laugh. It’s the kind of thing they’ve had to do in the past.  Humans tended to ignore what you told them, and relied on non-verbal communication way too much.

 

This also gives her a reason to pull Varric to one side. “Just got to make sure Varric understands his duties properly,” Herah tells Eevee.  “I’m not going to trust your safety to just anyone,” Eevee accepts this at face value and lets them go without a fuss, except now she edges closer to Malika.

 

Dragging Varric far enough away Eevee can’t hear them, Herah bends over, and starts explaining as fast as she can. Since Varric lives in the shit hole known as Kirkwall, he catches on, even faster.

 

“I got it Jinx,” He tells her and she relaxes. Then it’s simply a case of dropping Varric off with Eevee, and hurrying off to go find her idiot brother, she can’t let him have all the fun.

 

**oOo**

 

Strolling towards the humans’ camp, he gets into character. His mom always said he’d make a good actor, while his dad always added con-artist.  Loosening up his body, he swings his arms, changes his stride and makes it more bouncy.  A relaxed, easy smile is slid onto his face, and he’s ready.

 

The humans on guard spot him, and watch him approach. He’s not doing anything threatening, but they still stiffen, gripping their weapons like he’s a rampaging horde headed their way. His training has already kicked in and he’s tracking them, their weapons, and the people around them.

 

Coming to a stop just outside the reach of his weapon, he gives them a little wave; they jump, “Morning. Kaaras Adaar, Second in Command of the Inquisition, to see Seeker Cassandra,” His voice matches his body language, relaxed, open, friendly, loud, and pitched to carry over the camp.

 

As per the plan, the humans exchange glances and then one of them says, “Push off cow. Lady Seeker Pentaghast, one of the Council of the Inquisition, is too busy to waste her time with the likes of you.”

 

Hmm, that was surprisingly polite for a human.

 

“Are you sure?” He queries.  “We are talking about the same Cassandra right?  About yay high,” He holds his hand out at the right height.  “Dark hair, killer right hook, got a battle scream you can hear from the other side of a fight?”  He lets his voice get a bit louder, nothing too obvious but it’ll carry even further.

 

They exchange another glance, and the other human actually tries to shoo him away, “Look we said push off, we mean it. Lady Seeker Pentaghast is very busy,” This human is talking to him slowly, like he’s an idiot.  “There’s a lot of things for her to do and sort out.”

 

“Oh right,” Kaaras nods to them. “So you’re saying she’s too busy to talk to the Inquisition then?  She’s too important to listen to the message I’ve got for her.  ‘Cos our leader Solas, has some information for her, stuff he thought she’d be interested in, you know, as we’re travelling together.”  He watches the moment they realise exactly what he’s said.

 

“Look you stupid oxman,” The first human is bristling. “The knife ear might be married to the Herald, for now, but he’s not in charge of the Inquisition, the Council are.  And Lady Seeker Pentaghast is too important to have anything to do with a dumb cow like you!”  Ah, now the humans were getting louder too.

 

Excellent.

 

“Huh?” Kaaras does his best impression of thinking. “Wow, sorry.  Only Eevee, she’s the Herald of Andraste, seems to think we’re the Inquisition, not you.  And she’s happy to let Solas be in charge.  She wants us to find the Divine’s murderers.  Close all the rifts, even the big one over Haven.  And you know, stop all the fighting going on.”  Humans have begun drifting over, listening to him, and leaving their assigned chores unfinished.  A few of the scouts, all elves, go in the opposite direction, no doubt to report.  It won’t take Cass long to hear about this now.

 

“But that’s what we’re doing,” The second human says.

 

“Hey, that’s great,” Kaaras claps his hands together, making several watching humans jump. “You should join us then.  Eevee and Solas are gonna need all the help we can give them.”

 

“What? NO!” The first human really doesn’t like that idea.

 

Letting his face fall, and his shoulders slump, Kaaras shakes his head, “Oh, that’s too bad. Well, we wish you all the luck in your endeavours.”  He pauses for effect, “Um, just one question.  How are you going to seal the rifts?  You know, without Eevee?  ‘Cos the Maker gave her the thing on her hand?  You know the thing she uses to close the rifts?  And, well, she’s the only one to get one of those.”

 

No one has an answer for him. And several of the humans are starting to look at each other questioningly.  Oh good.  Now for the second part of Solas’ plan.

 

“Got to admit,” He carries on, voice clear, and full of cheer, “It’s something to see Eevee close a rift. There was this one on the mountain,” He goes on to describe the fight to close the rift, where the scouts were pinned down, exaggerating some of the details, miming some of the moves.  He’s careful to talk up Cassandra’s contribution, ending with, “And then Eevee, she’s still a mouse on Solas’ hand, lifts up her paw, and boom; rift closed.”  A sigh comes from the humans.  He’s not as good as Varric at spinning a tale, but he’s no slouch either.

 

Since Cassandra hasn’t showed up yet, even though almost half the humans had, Kaaras starts telling them about another fight, one without a rift. He’s most of the way through, when Cassandra does arrive, so he goes back to talking about her, “And then, right, Cass does this thing.  She smashes her shield into one demon,” He demonstrates with his left arm.  “And somehow she swings her sword, driving it up, and through, another demon,” He swings his right arm to show them.  “So now she’s wide open to a third demon,” The humans gasp.  “But Eevee, right, Eevee slams another unbreakable barrier down on Cass, just as the demon tries to disembowel Cass,” Another set of gasps.  “And Cass, right, remember the other two demons? Cass doesn’t have an arm free, this doesn’t stop her.  ‘Cos, Cass, lifts up her right leg, and okay, this is what she does, right, she kicks the demon right in the crotch.”

 

“I did not such thing,” Cassandra interrupts him. “I kicked the demon in the knee, it moved at the last second, and my foot connected between its legs.”  All the men in the group wince.  All the women smile.

 

“Oh, hey Cassie,” Kaaras waves to her. “Guess you finished your important busy stuff.  These guys said you were too important to talk to anyone.  Or was it too busy?  I forgot.”

 

“It is Cassandra, not Cassie,” She makes this disgusted noise. “And I will make sure they understand their duties better, including passing on messages,” The two humans in question swallow nervously.

 

“Okay, thanks Cassandra,” Kaaras continues with the plan, pleased she’s helped him so much already.

 

Behind him, on cue, his sister calls his name. They’ve pulled this routine a hundred times before.  First, they bicker.  Herah complaining he gets to be Second and she doesn’t, she’s older than him.  Secondly, he puts her verbally in her place, pointing out he’s been doing the work of a Second, and Solas noticed, while she’s been busy protecting Eevee.  Thirdly, she accepts the reasons why, but pulls ranks as his older sister and they start rough housing.  It’s very important she lifts him off his feet at least once.  He has to be seen off the ground and over her shoulder.  They have to impress their vastly superior physical strength on the humans.

 

They need to remind the humans just how powerful Vashoth are in a fight. They need to remind them to be a little scared.  They need to set this all up properly.

 

“Enough,” A single word is spoken, with authority, by Solas.

 

Acting like they’re surprised by his appearance, both Kaaras and Herah separate, careful to come to attention, but not make eye contact with the elf. And then they both give him the salute humans are most familiar with.  In short order, Solas takes control of the situation, reinstating his decision on making Kaaras his Second, with Edric as his Third.  Then firmly making Herah and Malika, joint Seconds of his wife’s bodyguards, reporting directly to him, and no one else.

 

“Herah, if you are here, who else guards my wife?” Solas’ voice is calm, but there’s a thread of iron through it.

 

“Oh, it’s fine, Varric’s with Malika,” Herah hastily reassures him. The same Varric who volunteered to watch Eevee while they were hatching this plan.

 

“Hmm,” The elf, pauses thinking. “I see.  So, if Varric is covering your duties of watching my wife and keeping her company.  Who is covering his duties in the camp?”  No one says anything and his sister shifts as if she’s uncomfortable.

 

“I’ll go to Eevee right now and,” Herah says, never getting the chance to finish.

 

“No,” Solas interrupts her. “As you have seen fit to hand over your assigned duties to Varric.  You will assume his duties for the packing up of the camp instead.”  So far Varric’s never done anything to help pack up the camp, he’s tended to wander around and talk to people.  It does sound like a good punishment though.  “You are lucky it is Varric helping to protect my wife.  He at least has some experience at how easily she attracts trouble.”

 

Herah doesn’t even argue, just meekly accepts his command.

 

“Oh, and Herah?” Solas puts his hands behind his back, falling into what Kaaras is starting to mentally call his ‘command’ pose. “If you ever abandon my wife again, without my expression permission, or without an exceptional reason, we will be having a very different conversation.  It will be very short, and very painful, for you.  Do I make myself clear?”  There’s no give in the elf’s tone.  And the threat hangs in the air.

 

“Yes Solas,” Herah gives him another salute and waits for dismissal. It comes in the form of a short head jerk.  She ‘flees’ his wrath, to go and sit quietly out of sight of the humans.  Though knowing her, she’ll openly do heavy work where the humans can see her, proving her ‘punishment’ and reinforcing how strong she is.

 

“My apologies Cassandra,” Solas turns to the human, hands still behind his back, when he walks forward, he does so giving off an aura of absolute command. There are many human nobles who’d pay to learn how to do that.  “As accomplished, and diligent in their duties, as Kaaras and Herah are.  I forget their youthfulness.  Now, has Kaaras managed to speak to you?”

 

And now Solas takes personal charge of this conversation. ‘Working’ with Cassandra to form a plan, of his making, regarding marching orders, and troop placements.  Solas is so deft at it, Kaaras isn’t sure Cassandra’s noticed.

 

**oOo**

 

Sitting on a raised area, Varric polishes Bianca, careful to keep his movements small, and slow. Mouse tended to flinch if he moved too fast.

 

If this were Kirkwall, he’d say she had the life expectancy of a tapdancing nug at a nug eating contest. She’s got ‘easy mark’ written all over her.  Jinx was right.  They needed to teach Mouse some things.  Like talking to men.

 

But how to go about it?

 

She was getting braver with him. Eyes flickering up to him, as she listened to him spin a tale about Hawke’s dog, “And there she was, sitting with a proud look on her face.  Behind her, the whole warehouse had gone up in flames,” He keeps spinning the story, until the end, “And Aveline, had to hand her the medal from the Viscount, because she’d broken the ring of slavers, saving the city in the process.”

 

Mouse is so busy laughing at him, she’s had to wrap her arm around herself. Her shoulders are heaving, and not one damned noise comes out of her.  Such intense laughter was involuntary.  If she’d been capable of making a sound, she’d have made it.  Even the best spies struggled to control things like how they laughed.  One of the reasons he was so good at spotting them, was getting them to break character, by laughing.

 

Well, shit.

 

She really was close to being mute.

 

It complicates things.

 

He’s sure they’ll be able to work around it, he’s heard her speak aloud, though her voice had broken, faded, and struggled. Maybe they could build it back up with practice?  It was worth thinking about.  Same with how she moved.  They could adapt some rogue training, change it specifically for her, give her better balance at the very least.

 

“And Fenris bought her a bone, bonding with her for the first time,” Varric gives Mouse the fall out of the tale. He embellishes, adds in extra bits, and she’s soon laughing again, almost breathless, with tears in her eyes.

 

Of course, Chuckles chooses this point to walk up to them. Watching Mouse’s face light up, Varric’s reminded of his own lady, and her welcoming smiles.  They were worth the trouble of dodging all the assassins her family sent after him.

 

“And what has caused such merriment and mirth?” Chuckles askes. And then Mouse does something that surprises Varric, she starts talking. It’s barely a whisper, and so soft Varric can’t make out the words.  Chuckles’ ears twitch as he listens, “Ah, I see.  A tale of a Mabari.  And one who is given a medal and a bone?  A very lucky Mabari indeed.”

 

Varric knew elf ears were better than most, he didn’t know they were that good.

 

Now it’s Chuckles’ turn to surprise Varric. The elf kneels at Mouse’s feet, gently taking her hands in his, and begins to describe what happened with the humans.  Seems Puppy’s a better actor than Varric gave him credit for, but then, the kid had leadership written all over him.  And the Seeker fell for their ploy.  Giving Puppy implied permission to call her by her first name.  And outwardly accepting Chuckles’ assumed authority.  At least for now.

 

Strangely Chuckles seems tense, until Mouse nods, and then he relaxes. Exactly like he was looking for her approval.

 

Sitting there watching them, Varric has a very oily thought. It oozes into his mind, sliming, and slithering, “ ** _Solas backed down to no one in Haven, except Eevee. How dangerous must a man be, if the only person who can exert any control over him, is the ‘Herald of Andraste’?_** ”

 

Fine tuning one of Bianca’s many screws, Varric tries to ignore the thought, but it keeps coming back. And it’s not wrong.  Chuckles respected no one’s authority.  He went toe to toe with Curly.  Stood firm against the Seeker.  Even had a verbal sparring match with the Nightingale a few times.  All while his wife lay unconscious in the Temple, in the Dungeons, and then in the Cabin.  His attitude hadn’t really changed when Mouse woke up.

 

“ ** _Except?_** ”  The thought won’t leave him alone.

 

After the Tavern, Mouse said she wanted to leave, so Chuckles started work on that. At the market, Mouse said she wanted to leave that instant, Chuckles made it happen.  And finally, after Chuckles beat the piece of shit human to within an inch of his life, he’d showed off, first as a wolf, then as a bear.

 

“ ** _And then?_** ”  An image of a giant bear, scrambling frantically backwards pops into his mind.

 

Chuckles had tried to forbid Mouse from doing something. She hadn’t reacted well.  He’d clearly panicked.  Varric idly wonders if Mouse realises exactly how much power she holds over Chuckles.

 

“ ** _Perhaps a better thought, is to wonder what Solas will do, if anything happens to Eevee? Who will hold him back then?_** ”  And with that the oiliness leaves his head but leaves behind a thought Varric really doesn’t want.

 

And it leaves only more questions in its wake. Like, how did these two meet?  And how did someone as dangerous as Chuckles, fall in love, with someone as harmless as Mouse?

 

**oOo**

 

Kneeling at her feet feels right.

 

He has knelt at the feet of two so called ‘Goddesses’, whose Vallaslin they had forced upon him, to make him their slave. He has knelt at the feet of the woman he once believed he loved, and believed she loved him.  Never has it felt this right, this comfortable.  He could stay here for an eternity.

 

Her hands are in his. Her fingernails painted with the colours she loves so much.  They appear perfect.  He had been so careful when he had crafted this body for MJ, he wants everything to be perfect for her.  Last time, neither her fingernails, nor her toenails, had ever grown back properly, not after Leliana had ripped them out.  Her fingers too had healed a little crooked, from where Leliana had broken them in the dungeons beneath the Chantry of Haven.

 

So much is different this time.

 

Including the smile sitting on MJ’s face.

 

He is terrified Thedas, and the humans here, will steal her smiles and her laughter as they did before. He had known she had a sense of humour, she had caught a great number of his jokes last time, but never smiled at them.  Until she was round with Rose, he had not even known she could laugh.  He wishes with all his being that he can save her smiles and laughter this time.

 

He suspects, even with all his power, he will not be able to.

 

Not without cheating and adjusting the odds heavily in his favour.

 

Before, the humans had constantly gotten in MJ’s way of raising the Inquisition. It took until Skyhold for many of them to settle down and obey her fully.  It was far too late by then.  MJ did not have the momentum to bring about the changes needed to the fabric of Thedas.  Cassandra had begun to obey then, but Leliana and Josephine kept ‘helping’, and destroying the delicate work MJ had tried to do.  They hadn’t understood what MJ was doing and meddled, Josephine with good intentions and Leliana, well, who knew with Leliana.

 

Strangely Cullen had settled into obedience the fastest. Perhaps the Templar training he had been through easing him into blindly trusting his superior, even if she was a mage.  Or perhaps the fact MJ appeared to be an elf, and a mage, caused the Commander to bend knee to her.  The human did have a very select type of woman he was interested in.

 

Gently he helps his Heart to her feet.

 

Linking arms with her, he leads her, and the fledgling Inquisition, down the road towards victory. Last time he had been too weak to challenge the Spirit of the Haunted Tower.  This time he will defeat it and take the spoils of his conquest.  With its treasure laid at his Heart’s feet, any resistance the humans have could easily be waved away.

 

Yes, this time the humans will not get in his Heart’s way.

 

In front of him and MJ, are endless possibilities, all of them good. Last night his Heart had chosen him over the teachings of Wisdom.  She had answered Pride’s riddle well enough it had complimented her.  She had even trusted him with her beloved Baron, making him co-parent of her cat, a trust he will not fail at.  And best of all, inside her the seeds of friendship were already beginning to grow.  He has been somewhat giddy all morning, the memory of their delicate little roots strong in his mind, and the fact she had wanted to show them to him.

 

Yes, his beloved is right, today is a much better day.

 

Estimating their speed, he believes they will reach another rift, just before their noon meal. They will find more food on the wagons there.  He will keep the Inquisition moving a few hours more, once the rift, the wagons, and the bodies are dealt with, before stopping for the night.  They should then reach the Haunted Tower the following day, about mid-afternoon.

 

He is looking forward to the coming battle at the tower. And the looks on the so-called leadership of the false Inquisition.  Even they will not be able to deny his Heart after they see the treasure she will bear.  Even they will bend knee to her authority, their faith will demand it of them.  They will have no choice, after this they will believe the Maker and His Bride back MJ, and to challenge her, is to challenge them.

 

**oOo**

 

His horse plodding sedately next to the Lady Seeker’s, Rylen reflects on the events of the morning. There’s only one conclusion he can draw; Solas plays The Game with the same brilliance, and flare, as he commands his limited troops.

 

Last night Rylen had been impressed with how the Herald’s camp had been set up. The rotation of guards was inspired.  He doubts a fly could have flown across that camp without being spotted.

 

And then this morning the elf had used the two Qunari to great effect. Their mock fight, staged as a family squabble, drew his and the Lady Seeker’s attentions.  As well as most of the Inquisitions’ troops.  They’d witnessed two of the big bovine people show off just how powerful they were.  And who’d stopped their ‘fight’?  Solas.  With one word he called them to order.  Then proceeded to discuss the two groups and placements with the Lady Seeker, to ‘limit any scuffles’, and make sure everyone knew where they were supposed to be.

 

Incidentally, also putting Solas on a first name basis with the Lady Seeker.

 

It was masterful.

 

Yet so very simple.

 

Beside him, the Lady Seeker was seething at being played so expertly.

 

Even now Rylen doubts he fully understands the complete impact of Solas’ powerplay. Commander Cullen had been partly right.  This elf has proved he does have what it takes to be in the chain of command.  Unfortunately, Solas seems to believe his place is right at the top.  Having seen some of what Solas can do, Rylen can feel the first stirrings of worry.  This elf had ambition.  Rylen’s seen it in the Circle before.  You quickly learnt not to judge a person’s abilities and worth by the shape of their ears.  Many a young Templar fell foul of the older elven mages.  It was a hard lesson to learn.  Elves were just as dangerous as humans, more so sometimes, they’d had to work harder to get where they were.

 

So far, not one person from the Inquisition had been able to get close to the Lady Herald. She was always safely far away from them.  Even Beech had been unable to infiltrate the Herald’s camp, she was politely rebuffed.  Normally elves were happy to talk to other elves. Not this time.  The Herald’s party closed ranks the moment anyone from the Inquisition happened to be near.

 

Rylen himself had managed to only spy the Herald from a distance. She’d been sitting down at the time.  Around her the camp had been set up.  Solas right in the middle of all the bustling activity.

 

Ahead of them there’s a commotion, and one of their scouts, comes up to them. Bowing the elf tells them, “Rift ahead.  Small clearing in the trees.”

 

“Thank you,” Rylen tells him and asks for a few more details. Sending him off to get water once he’s done, Rylen brings his horse sharply into the Lady Seeker’s.  Dropping his voice, he says, “This may be the chance we’ve been looking for.”

 

“How so?” The Lady Seeker’s frustration and anger is clear in her voice.

 

“Only the Lady Herald can close the rift. They’ll have to bring her out into the open.  If we are careful, we may begin to get close to her.  Meaning we don’t have to go through Solas to get to her,” Sir Rylen points out.

 

Going quiet for a few minutes the Lady Seeker asks, “What do you suggest?” So, he tells her.  “Very well,” She nods.  “We will follow this plan of yours.”

 

“Thank you for your trust Lady Seeker,” And he is thankful. Many nobles refused to listen to anyone, to the ruin of everyone.  Now he simply has to hope nothing about this goes wrong.

 

Firstly, he needs to communicate the steps the rest of the Inquisition troops need to know. And secondly, he needs to offer himself and a few suitable others as additional protection for the Herald.

 

In short order, the Inquisition troops, lead by the Lady Seeker are staging ready for the fight. And he can see the male Qunari, Kaaras, doing the same with the Herald’s people.  While he, Beech, and another elven scout, go in search of the Herald’s bodyguards.  They don’t get far, before they’re challenged, and then have to wait for Solas to come and make a decision.

 

To Rylen’s complete shock, Solas is open to the idea of additional bodyguards for his wife. He’d thought the elf would reject him but allow the scouts through.  “Thank you Serah Solas for your trust.  We will guard the Lady Herald with our lives.”

 

“Yes, you will,” The mage says, almost placidly. “Because if you fail her.  If she is injured, you will take a very long time to die at my hands.”  Normally nobles make threats like this all the time.  Rylen is used to them.  This time, he knows Solas means it, this is not an idle threat.

 

It quickly becomes apparent, that Solas also expects Rylen, and the scouts, to obey, not only him, but to listen to the female Qunari and a female dwarf. Rylen is capable of being compliant, just because he listens now, doesn’t mean he’ll listen next time.  And he really wants to be able to get close to the Lady Herald.

 

When the Inquisition, and the Herald’s forces, finally engage the demons at the rift, Solas has moved forward to lead from the front. He and the Lady Seeker do make an excellent team.  Leaving the Lady Herald behind, in the open, with only two bodyguards, Rylen, and the two scouts.

 

As everyone is busy watching the fight, and the surrounding area, Rylen copies them. It wouldn’t do for the Lady Herald to become injured on his watch.

 

Again, he finds the elven mage’s tactics masterful. His commands echo clearly across the battlefield.  His forces move well together, complementing each other, and he can see why they’d received no injuries from their previous battle to close a rift.

 

Venturing to speak Rylen says, “Serah Solas is clearly a very competent tactician.” It gets him a grunt from the Qunari, a suspicious glance from the dwarf, and a brief flick of eye contact from the Lady Herald.  He waits until Solas pulls off a very well-timed manoeuvre, with the male Qunari, and one of the male dwarves, the one with the strange crossbow.  Then Rylen adds, “My Lady Herald, you must consider yourself very lucky in your choice of marriage, to someone as skilled as Serah Solas.”  All it earns him is another flick of her eyes, then she steps closer to the Qunari, who glares at him.

 

He carefully notes all their reactions, and calmly goes back to watching the battle. When the last of the demons is destroyed, he’s stunned when the Qunari lifts the Lady Herald into her arms, to carry her the short distance to the rift.  There Solas helps the Herald down and stands behind her, bracing the Lady Herald, as she lifts her hand to close the rift.

 

It truly is something to behold.

 

When the Lady Seeker and Solas meet in the middle of the field to discuss cleaning up the bodies, organising the searches for any stray demons, and dividing up the spoils from the abandoned wagons nearby, Rylen stays where he is. No one has asked him to move.  And no one has relieved him of his duties as bodyguard.

 

This affords him more access to the Lady Herald and her immediate bodyguards. And, as the Herald’s people appear, puts him right in the middle of their camp.

 

Apparently, the Lady Seeker listened to his earlier words, and the wagons are divided up, evenly, between the two forces. Small campfires are set up, and a noon meal is soon being cooked.  He stays at his post, watching the female dwarf set down a ground sheet for the Lady Herald to sit on.  The female Qunari then helps the Lady Herald sit down.

 

Rylen stays as still as he dares. They haven’t shooed him or the scouts away yet, and he continues to observe their camp.  People start to eat.  Then the male Qunari and one of the male dwarves come over.  They stare at him, the big horned male giving him a nod, “You’re still here then.”

 

“Yes, they are still searching for demons. I could not in good conscience leave the Lady Herald without extra guards.  Just in case,” Rylen aims for goodwill and camaraderie.

 

It falls flat, when the male dwarf, the one with the crossbow says, “Huh. You weren’t much good when Mouse got shot in Haven.”

 

Openly wincing, Rylen acknowledges this, “You’re correct. I failed the Lady Herald in Haven.”  Suddenly the Lady Herald herself pays him attention, but doesn’t speak, so he gives her a salute and small bow.  “I can only beg your forgiveness. I will not fail in my duty to protect you again.”  She still doesn’t speak and won’t met his eyes.

 

Standing there, Rylen notices that one by one, her bodyguards go and eat, then return so the next one can leave to eat at the fire. Not once does anyone bring the Lady Herald any food.

 

No one at all.

 

Hiding his frown and his worry, Rylen continues to stand guard, doing his best to blend into the background. Hard to do when he is one of the few humans in a busy camp of non-humans.  In the distance Solas stops by the fire, eats, and then approaches, bringing no food with him.  Though he is carrying a water skin.

 

Catching sight of Solas, the Lady Herald perks up, noticeably. And moves so he can sit down next to her.  Which he does, holding out the water skin to her.  Then showing her a handful of dried fruit.  To Rylen’s surprise she shakes her head and the elf eats the fruit.

 

She still hasn’t eaten anything. Though she does sip from the waterskin.

 

Gazing out over the camp, Rylen watches out of the corner of his eye, as the Herald leans towards the elf, her lips moving as if she’s talking. But there’s no sound.  Solas is giving her his full attention and appears to reply.  This time Rylen can hear the elf’s voice, but the words are unclear.

 

Confused, Rylen keeps up his bodyguarding act.

 

Their ‘conversation’ continues. Each time the Lady Herald speaks, there’s no sound.  Every time Solas speaks his voice carries but the words remain unclear.  Not one of the other bodyguards acts like this is unusual.

 

When everyone else in the Herald’s camp, has eaten their fill, but not the Herald herself, the camp starts to break up. Which is when he gets to watch Solas help the Herald to her feet.  And he does help her.  She’s clearly relying on him to get her upright.  She even leans on him for a few heartbeats as she steadies herself once she’s standing.

 

Again no one act as if this is unusual

 

It’s when she’s goes to walk that Rylen’s blood runs cold.

 

Jerking his eyes straight ahead, he’s standing calmly when he’s noticed by the Qunari male again, which brings him back to Solas’ attention. “Ah, Knight-Captain, my thanks in caring for my wife.”  With a simple movement of his head, Solas motions for the two Qunari to act as escorts.  “Please, do give my best wishes to Cassandra.  Her help was greatly appreciated,” And Rylen is clearly dismissed as bodyguard.  The Qunari siblings take him, and the scouts, all the way to the edge of the camp and make sure he leaves.

 

Politely thanking them, Rylen goes to find his horse. He has a great deal to report.  And a great deal to think on.

 

Back on his horse, he encourages it forward, only to be brought to a complete halt. The Lady Herald has stopped, to speak words over the shredded remains, of the poor unfortunate souls killed when the rift first opened up days ago.  Then the remains are set on fire and they can continue on with their journey.

 

As the remains burn behind them, Rylen realises all his thoughts on the elf, and the elf’s motivations are also going up in flames. In one instant, his understanding has changed completely.

 

**oOo**

 

She has had to wait since noon for this.

 

Around them, the Inquisition camp is settling down for the night, even as the sun sinks behind the mountains. Rylen had indicated he had learnt something from guarding the Herald.  But they’ve not had a chance to discuss it yet.

 

“Lady Seeker,” Rylen approaches her with several reports in his hand. She hates writing reports, she never knows the right words to use.  They always ended up sounding so stilted

 

“We will use the table over there,” Cassandra motions to the bigger tent. “The light is better,” She had hoped they could talk, but reports wait for no one.

 

Settling into the flimsy camp chair, by the equally flimsy and rickety camp table, she’s surprised when he pulls his own chair right next to hers. When he sits down, he pulls an already completed report in front of them and pitches his voice low, “Lady Seeker, I believe my report will be of a very sensitive nature.”

 

Mimicking him, she leans forward as if reading the report, “Go on.”

 

“Clearly Serah Solas is no ordinary elven mage,” Knight-Captain Rylen tells her nothing she does not already know. “He plays The Game extremely well.  He is a tremendously able commander.  His tactics are without peer.  If it weren’t for his ears, I’d have said he’s noble born, and had a full cadre of the best tutors, whilst also having a natural gift at everything he’s turned his hand to.”  Tapping the paper on the table Rylen adds, “I would never want to be on the opposing side of that elf, without overwhelming numbers, there are only a few commanders I can think of who could beat him.”

 

Something Cassandra learnt quickly about this man, is that he doesn’t rattle easily, but right now, Rylen is worried. “You think him that good?  Or have circumstances simply aided him?”  She cannot think how they could have aided Solas.  But she also wouldn’t have thought it possible Most Holy would be ripped from them, and a giant hole in the Fade left hanging over them either.

 

“He’s that good,” Rylen nods. “In fact, I would go so far as to say he’s brilliant, a genius, and one of the most dangerous individuals I’ve ever met.”

 

“Oh?” Cassandra really does not like this news in the slightest.

 

“I watched him fight Kayne in Haven. I’ve never seen anyone fight like that.  He deliberately antagonised the man, and then Solas went out of his way to demonstrate his superiority, to devastating, and deadly effect.  I doubt Kayne will survive his beating.  And not once did Solas use magic,” Cassandra has heard a number of reports of the fight, all from reliable people; she still does not believe any of them.  “Magic he is clearly proficient in, as demonstrated by his shapeshifting so easily.”

 

“Your point,” Cassandra can feel her mood souring.

 

“Lady Seeker, after this morning, I now believe Solas may have done something to set up the fight with Kayne,” She jerks to stare at the man next to her, he’s staring at the report like it holds the answers they seek. “Or, he made sure he took advantage of Kayne’s stupidity.  He used the fight to his own ends.  He removed Kayne, not just because the man threatened his wife, but to hammer home his fighting prowess.  He essentially beat a man, almost to death, in a legal Trial by Combat, in the most brutal way he could, simply to make a point.  As I said, he plays The Game extremely well.”

 

“If you are right,” Cassandra wonders just what other things Solas is capable of.

 

“I fear I am right Lady Seeker. This elf appears, on the surface, to be ambitious.  His powerplay this morning was subtle; most would have missed it.  He’s seems to be using his wife’s title to make a grab at the Inquisition itself,” Rylen pauses.  “My Lady, before I left Haven with you, Commander Rutherford pulled me to one side.  He wished me to help you, as your temper is well known,” Cassandra grimaces, but cannot argue the point.  “He also asked me to evaluate the elven mage in question.  Could Solas be absorbed into the chain of command?  Could Solas be given a position in the Inquisition itself?  I fear that not only is the answer yes, but that the position he is aiming for, is right at the top.”

 

“That cannot be allowed to happen,” Cassandra is still searching for the Hero of Ferelden, or the Champion of Kirkwall, to take that position.

 

“I agree,” Sir Rylen pulls another report forward. “Though, I am currently in two minds on Solas’ motivations.  After what I observed while guarding the Lady Herald, I’m inclined to believe he is aiming for the position of Inquisitor to protect his wife.”  Rylen glances at her, “There is a great deal of information we appear to be ignorant of when it comes to the Lady Herald.”

 

Frowning Cassandra fails to read the words on the report in front of her, “Explain.”

 

“My Lady Seeker, you will not like the news I’ll give you, but you need to hear it,” And now Rylen even looks rattled. “While I helped to guard the Lady Herald, I noticed three very troubling things about her.  The first is, she cannot talk.”

 

“Preposterous,” Cassandra cuts in. “I have heard her speak myself.  When I escorted her up the mountain, to the Breach, we talked a few times.   She spoke words for the dead at the Temple itself.  I admit her voice was very soft, and difficult to hear, but she did speak.”

 

Rylen simply lets her speak, “Lady Seeker, think back, how often did the Herald speak? And how close did you have to be to hear her?”

 

Indulging him, she thinks back, and freezes in shock. “Once she reunited with Solas she preferred to talk through him,” She ventures.  “And in the Chantry when we declared the Inquisition reborn,” She trails off.  Now the reports from the Tavern made more sense.  When confronted by the man she hadn’t spoken to defend herself.  And Solas had made a speech about her lack of speech.

 

In fact, Cassandra had thought the woman’s voice was hoarse from all the injuries she’d suffered. What if it wasn’t?  What if this is how her voice always was?  But what about the vision from the Temple, she’d spoken out loud, or was the vision itself not true?

 

“And secondly?” Cassandra asks, not wanting to know.

 

“The Lady Herald cannot walk unaided,” The Knight-Captain looks straight at her.

 

“Impossible,” Cassandra dismisses his idea. “She was badly injured, she is simply,” She stops.  “Explain.”

 

“While I watched, the female Qunari had to help her to sit on the ground. When they left, Solas had to help her get to her feet.  At no point did the Lady Herald attempt either manoeuvre on her own.  When they set out, she tripped slightly, as she struggled to lift her feet properly,” He goes on, linking her clumsy movements to training, giving her a better insight into how the Herald moved.

 

Again, Cassandra is forced to think back. How difficult the Herald had found it to rise to her feet, or to climb stairs, to even walk in a straight line.  Cassandra, had again, believed it to be linked the lingering aftereffects of such severe injuries.  But, as soon as she could, the Herald had changed her shape.  When the Herald was a mouse, Cassandra had noticed the strange stitching on Solas’ armour, on his right shoulder only, and they were perfect for a little mouse to grip onto.  As if he were used to his wife riding on his shoulder.

 

Solas had also carried his wife through Haven on his back, while he played the part of a dancing snow-white Hart. Once in the Chantry he had asked for help, as the Herald would struggle to rise to her feet.  Leliana had confirmed afterwards, the Herald had been unsteady on her feet.  And when being led to a bed to rest, she’d leaned on both Leliana and Solas.  There are very few people capable of fooling Leliana, and Cassandra is certain the Herald is no such person.

 

Meaning, on multiple occasions, the Herald had needed aid to walk.

 

Reports from across Haven described her being carried in Solas’ arms or leaning on someone as she walked very slowly. It has also been many days since she’d been injured and according to Adan, she’d healed fast, clean, and there should be no lingering effects.

 

“Maker have mercy,” Cassandra feels her blood chill as realisation steals over her.

 

“Exactly,” Sir Rylen gives up any pretence of reading the completed reports. “I also believe the Lady Herald may be struggling to eat.”  This time Cassandra does not interrupt him and lets him continue his explanation.  Ending with, “She waved away the only food offered to her.  Couple this with them eating away from her.”

 

“They were keeping the smell of food from her,” Cassandra concludes. Near the end of their lives, Templars often went off their food, the very smell of it could induce vomiting.

 

“Whether this is something she suffers from long term, or is a new thing, I do not know,” Rylen folds his arms and sits back. “This is why I’m wondering if Solas’ actions have a direct correlation with protecting his wife, or if he is simply grabbing power for himself.”

 

Reeling under the weight of his news, she waves a hand for him to continue, “If we consider Solas’ actions and attitudes, from the reports I’ve read, he started out, frantic to save his wife from the rogue Templars.” Cassandra winces at her memories of the incident. “He was polite, helpful, friendly to all of the healer staff at the Temple.  He only left his wife’s side at the insistence of the Divine herself, when she emptied out most of the Temple, before the explosion,” Cassandra winces again, the loss of Most Holy a wound in her heart.

 

“Then he cooperated fully while his wife was in the dungeons under the Chantry,” Rylen is staring at the candles, musing, and working towards something. “I know he insisted that only female guards were allowed near his wife.  Understandable, in the circumstances.  He even took his wife into danger, to attempt to close the Breach.  He was never further than a few feet the entire time she was carried down the mountain,” Cassandra nods, she’d been there too.  Solas had hovered and fussed over his wife the whole time.

 

Shifting in his seat, Rylen taps a finger on his lips, “The first time Solas used violence against anyone in Haven, was against Master Adan’s apprentice. A man who has since been hung for rape.”

 

It brings Cassandra up short, “Solas told us at the time he was defending his wife. When he punched the apprentice, he said the apprentice had tried to touch his wife’s breasts.” They exchange glances, “Keep going Knight-Captain.”  There is something here, she is sure of it.

 

“Yes, Lady Seeker. After that, Solas might have raised his voice, but he never raised his fist again,” And he hadn’t.  Though his arguments with Cullen were at shouting level, and ones Cullen left in full retreat.  “In fact, he didn’t even resort to violence in the Tavern, he tore a hole in the side of the building and patched it up afterwards.  It isn’t until Kayne, he shows any violent tendencies again.”

 

“And all of Haven is aware Kayne the Bastard is a known rapist,” Cassandra points out seeing a pattern being to emerge. “But Solas was aggressive towards me yesterday, when we met on the road.”

 

A snort comes from the man next to her, “Lady Seeker, if you were travelling with the Divine, may she rest in the Maker’s arms, and an armed force rode up to you, would you welcome them with open arms? Or would you be wary of them?  And what if that force had last said they would take the Divine from you by force?  And shot her with an arrow?”  He shakes his head, “No, Solas was reacting to the threat he perceived from us.  Now we are beginning to prove ourselves to him, he may have set up this morning’s little performance, but he still gave us access to the Lady Herald.  However, limited that access was, it was access.  We are making progress.

 

“Which leaves us with one question. Is Solas truly putting his wife first?  And seeking power through the Inquisition to protect her?  Or is he seeking power for himself and his ambition?”  As ever Sir Rylen sums it up well.  She can see why Cullen sent this man with her.

 

Another thought bobs up in her mind, “There is something more pressing to consider Knight-Captain.”

 

“My Lady?” He enquires of her.

 

“If the Lady Herald suffers, as you suspect, then not only is she unable to call for help if she is attacked, or injured,” Cassandra points out. “She is also unable to remove herself from danger by walking or running.  Nor is she able to fight, because all an enemy needs to do, is knock her down, and she will be unable to regain her feet.”  Cassandra’s tutors had begun her training with the sword and shield by concentrating on her footwork.  Bad footwork got people killed.  Many of her opponents had died simply because they did not know how to move properly.

 

“Cassandra,” Rylen says, his face a mask of horror. “We’re currently walking towards a warzone.  There are Templars, mages, bandits, and demons.”  He voices her thoughts.  “We are travelling with the only woman who can close the rifts.  And she is apparently, the most helpless, defenceless woman in all of Thedas.”

 

In Haven Cassandra had been confident of her ability to convince Solas to return with the Herald. Her confidence has all but left her.  To be replaced with the growing realisation of how hopeless their position is, “Then let us pray the Maker is merciful, and Solas is motivated by his need to protect the Herald, because we are all going to have to work together.”  She thinks for a second, “And let us hope some of the recruits Cullen is working with are ready, because we are going to need every last blade and bow to keep the Herald safe.

 

This day is turning out to be one of Cassandra’s worst days. She reaches for a blank piece of parchment, trying to work out how she was supposed to explain all of this to the rest of the Council.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is based on a game, so there are levelling up, and those types of things, I just didn't understand why Master Adan would need notes for a simple potion. Hopefully this fixed that :)
> 
> And I wanted to show the Vashoth as much smarter than people think they are. If you listen to Solas/Bull or Varric/Bull in game conversations, they get a moment where they realise just how smart and observant he is. So no reason Kaaras/Herah shouldn't be either :)


End file.
